Monsters / Program (2022)

This is the story of a woman who climbs into it.

A Malthouse Theatre production, in association with Stephanie Lake Company.

A sinkhole has opened in the ground. And what she finds.

Malthouse acknowledges the unceded lands of the Kulin Nation. We acknowledge their sovereignty and their Songlines. We pay respect to their Elders and their Children. We embrace and celebrate the oldest culture in the world.

Hope & Horror

Matthew and I had our first conversation about Monsters in a coffee shop in London at the end of 2019. Stephanie, Matthew and I managed a few workshops at the start of 2020 before stay-at-home orders swept in and the pandemic unfolded. Suddenly, I was writing the first draft of this show in a world that felt like it was coming apart at the seams. In those early months— when turning on the news every night felt like a landslide of uncertainty and terror – there was a lot of discussion in the film, theatre, and TV worlds about what kind of stories people would need and want in the months and years to come. Most of these discussions ended up coming down firmly on the side of escapism. But the deeper I went into writing Monsters the more I found resonance after resonance between the world we were building in this show and the one we’re living in now.

One of the ideas present in Monsters is a question: whether to look away or to face the unspeakable? Sometimes we need to protect ourselves. But sometimes hope and unity exist in confronting the indescribable together: which is one of the few positive things I can say as we all struggle out the other side of this pandemic. There was a unity in it. Sitting together in a theatre and choosing to be drawn into a descent that might hold discomfort, unease or horror also holds a kind of hope and catharsis. It’s both an acknowledgment of the darkness that’s been unearthed – and disrupted the world so profoundly – these past few years, and an assurance that if we face and feel it, we’ll find our way out together. In the same way a roller coaster gives us a jolt of adrenalin that makes us feel alive, fear is the opposite of hopelessness. It’s an affirmation that we’re here, that we have more in common than we think, and that there’s still time to make a change.

EMME HOY / Writer

Director’s Note

Bringing together dance and theatre (or choreography and text) has always been a great passion of mine. It has also been a great fear. To see a fiction acted out by dancers, or to watch actors dance a story, was never the goal of this production. Our aim is to create a text and choreography that are two sides of the same coin. They are the conscious and unconscious, sitting back-to-back, that when brought together, are greater than the sum of their parts.

The creation process has been thrilling and reflects this ambition. Every morning the dancers and actor work separately, creating their own material, and in afternoons we bring these two forces together and witness what happens. Every afternoon has been full of unexpected discoveries.

When Emme, Stephanie and I first started talking about Monsters I immediately thought about the fantastic stories of H.P. Lovecraft; a writer renowned for imagining terrifying monsters beneath the ground. What I find so compelling in his writing (and in most writing that involves monsters) is the power of allegory. The monster is real, it induces adrenaline, it spurs you into action, but what the monster means is never explained. It can be a projection of the protagonist, a personal trauma, a contemporary pathology, or it can also be all these things simultaneously. Ultimately, it is learning how to see our personal and collective monsters clearly and honestly that brings hope we can confront them.

MATTHEW LUTTON / Director

Choreographer’s Note

Matthew and I have wanted to co-create a dance-theatre work together for a long time and Monsters is the result of conversations over many years. Our shared ambition is to create a show where text and movement are braided together – dance picks up where words fail and narrative steps in where choreography is not enough. This is a dark tale but it has been enormous fun to create and I’m indebted to the dancers and collaborators for bringing it to life, despite all the challenges.

STEPHANIE LAKE / Choreographer

© Malthouse Theatre, the artists, designers, photographers, collaborators and contributors. All rights reserved, 2022. Campaign Photography / Tamarah Scott. Printed on 100% recycled paper.