Corpse Flower

Here’s the thing, it’s not that I didn’t get it. It was some really beautiful and well done German expressionist staging on stage instead of on screen which I’ve never seen before. It was incredibly Kafka-esq in its plot and themes: the bugs thing of course, but every other element also took from directly from other sources: tje idea of “the machine” from German expressionist films and the Lovecraftian eerie sea side setting. And if you throw all this into a show with no clear direction for what story you want to tell than it’s just a bunch of borrowed ideas that aren’t then used to prove something new or subvert expectations or provide commentary in a meta narrative. Like one of the props used during the performance, this show is a big ol’ bucket of fish heads. Yes I love all these inspirations but you’ve picked them clean and the finished product has little it accomplishes beside stand as a testament to what was ravaged.

Edit to original review: I looked up the term corpse flower and found out it is a real plant which referenced in the show and provides some great closure and a much more satisfying ending (not only because of the title, but also what happens in the final moments of the play)… except they never explained this to the audience in anyway. That’s just sloppy writing and could have easily been fixed with a monolog from a character pontificating on the plant. The play has an apothecary character who serves little purpose; make this her reason for existing.

So wonderfully weird!

This was epic, funny and surreal but serious too, horrible and well done. Not a single slipped line, excellent no notes

A Bug’s Life!

Unlike Plato’s cave where shadows are what we have to escape from, in the Threepenny Collective’s “Corpse Flower” they serve as reflective tools that force us to confront what truly matters in our lives. The play explores themes of existence, purpose, and the fragility of human aspirations with an absurdist verve that would make Camus nod in begrudging approval.

It’s a brilliantly macabre venture, capturing the conceptual explorations of the Absurdist theatre tradition, while sneering at the inflated self-assurance of the 1940s existentialists, who were far too certain of their own intellectual prowess. This isn’t a didactic play. There is no snobbery. It is intelligent and entertaining.

We follow the young, tormented protagonist as she grapples with a daunting set of obstacles: an alcoholic father, an ailing mother, the oppressive weight of an arranged marriage, money troubles, a potential revolution, and an eerie abundance of pesticide… Her world is one of theft and desperation, where even the simple act of finding a job taints her with impurity and corruption. In this world, being a worker does much less than give you a hand.

The tale unfolds as a coming-of-age narrative that skewers every notion of ordinary self-discovery, revealing that life’s supposedly meaningful decisions—whether to love or to rebel, to conform or to escape—are all equally hollow. Ultimately, no final delineations even between a human and an insect; instead, every choice dissolves into the absurdity of existence itself.

The actors electrify the stage with dance-like intensity and precision of voice. In the role of Madame Critch, Lola Knight shines as the play’s volta. Her performance builds a bridge between the unhinged intensity of Raphael Ruiz’s drunken sea dog father (one can’t help but think of Shaw’s Captain in “Heartbreak House”) and the formidable and dutiful strength of the central heroine, played by Medea Manaz. Matthew Rowan delivers a stunning physical performance as the suitor that wouldn’t be out of place in a circus. And in this absurd world, you need a revolutionary fish-head-monger played by a swashbuckling Alexandros Fragkos. They breathe life into a narrative that continuously questions the very concept of a good life. Their portrayal is a dance of contradictions: intense yet detached, confident yet vulnerable, perfectly mirroring the chaotic spirit of the underlying themes and ultimate conclusion.

The production’s visual elements—costume, set design, and music—are not mere backdrops but crucial players in this dark symphony. There’s a hauntingly beautiful German Expressionist influence throughout, recalling the gothic aesthetics of “Nosferatu” and “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari”. Faces painted in ghostly whites, eyes hollowed by dark makeup, and a monochromatic set punctuated by deep, creeping shadows. These choices don’t just support the action; they magnify it, creating an immersive world where the audience’s gaze is continuously drawn, challenged, and captivated.

The costume work by Noemi Fintor is nothing short of stunning. There's a delicate balance between practical effects and imaginative stage design. Whilst shadows offer pure fuel for the imagination, having well executed props satiates the eyes. Each costume piece adds phenomenal flare, grounding the abstract in the visceral.

The surprise of the night is the music by Nathan Saudek, an unexpected addition that elevates the production from a play to an ethereal ritual. The score adds a buoyancy that offsets the existential bleakness, allowing the audience to leave not in despair but in a state of thoughtful, almost contented, confusion — aporia.

It stands apart from the philosophical theatre of Sartre's “No Exit,” not merely content with musing on existence but treating the search for meaning lightly. This is no dry lecture, but a playful subversion of the coming-of-age tale, where maturity doesn’t lead to enlightenment or resignation but to a cheerful acceptance — to breed, to feed, to burrow, to revolt, to work, to marry, to travel, to steal, to be queen, to murder, to live, to die, to flower.

If the Threepenny Collective’s brilliant prior full length play “Dog Beach” flirted with the menace of Pinter and the wry cynicism of Orwell, “Corpse Flower” fully embraces the absurd, presenting a universe where all actions, noble or base, are ultimately inconsequential. In a climactic reversal that rejects all binaries and revels in gleeful nihilism celebrated with unity, it asks us not just to live or die, but to recognise that, in the end, both might as well be the same for all we care and that we aren’t alone in this world.

Ariel De La Garza Davidoff and Michal Vojtech have written a fun, witty, and visually stunning play—with dialogue that is as sharp as a pen—that is a standout of the Fringe festival with Ilya Wray directing with the precision of a surgeon.

“Corpse Flower” is a bold, innovative piece that refuses to draw easy conclusions or provide comforting resolutions. It mocks the very idea of dichotomy—life and death, freedom and confinement, community and isolation—all rendered indistinguishable in the relentless churn of existence. And as the final song fades, we are left not with answers, but a whimsical embrace. Who cares? Let’s just sing and dance our way to the end, together. Voltaire’s “Candide” ends with the command to cultivate the garden. “Corpse Flower” ends with our character’s performing it.

How bizarre ! I was NOT expecting this at all, but this was better than I expecting. It was like a fever dream, brilliantly acted, staged, written — if Tim Burton was doing theatre on a budget, that would be it. One of the best gems of the Fringe.

Incredible show!!! From the moment the lights dimmed, the audience was transported to a grim yet oddly whimsical world, thanks to the extraordinary costume design. The transformation of the townsfolk into grotesque yet hilarious bug-like creatures was a sight to behold. Both unsettling and captivating. Each costume was meticulously crafted, striking the perfect balance between eerie and comedic, enhancing the surreal atmosphere. The actors' physicality as they morphed into bugs was both creepy and hysterical, with each character adding their own quirks to the grotesque transformation. The seamless transitions between horror and humour were truly masterful, leaving me teetering between gasps of shock and fits of laughter. This play is an absolute gem, a fresh and inventive masterpiece.

Like sleep paralysis if it was really funny and entertaining. A beautiful production

Game performances can't overcome the poor script, staging and direction. Billed as a comedy horror but it's neither funny or particularly scary, just nonsensical. Aims for Tim Burton, 80s doctor who, and Kafka but lands at Ed Wood. It's certainly different but doesn't make a satisfactory whole.

Fantastic acting alongside a bizarre yet intriguing story make for a very entertaining performance. Would recommend!

This horror-fantasy takes you on a captivating journey through the weird and wonderful. The writing and acting was consistently excellent and is well worth your time!

Expressionistic play with a picturesque quality.. shadowplay, along with emotional performances and captivating costumes, paint a plethora of intense and engulfing macabre scenery that flows seamlessly carried by unsettling music, spelling out “decay and despair”. Very unique and over all one of the best experiences at this year’s fringe festival.

A spooky Surrealist show like no other! We loved the characterisation, costume, shadow puppetry and haunting music!

Gave me the vibe of an episode of the Twilight Zone. The ending was incredible and the set looked amazing, magnetic performances from everyone

I absolutely loved this show! Caught it last night by my father's rec and i loved the campy macabre vibe. The performances were great, everyone moves in an almost cartoonishly big way that is very very fun to watch. would absolutely reccommend to a friend.

A riotous fever-dream of a show! With performances as crisp as a fried grasshopper and a shambling, murderous score, we laughed until we died.

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