Laguna

Why invent horror stories when fear is everywhere? How can we be afraid of something that we know does not exist? What do we really enjoy when we watch fictional worlds crumble before our eyes, and what does this have to do with our own sense of danger? “Laguna” grows out of a fascination with body horror as a genre in which our collective fears about the corporeality are reviewed. It takes advantage of our weakness for images that simultaneously attract and repel us, causing a faster heartbeat and tingling in the neck area. In the “Lagoon” in the scenic spa, dirty water seeps from the tap, the sun loungers resemble instruments of torture, and the mud that heals in sanatoriums but kills in the cinema is like a bad omen. A total solar eclipse lasts long enough to shake not only the laws of gravity and motor skills. The disintegration involves the plot and theatricality — the dialogues and the structure of the play are decomposed. The movement remains, and with it the fundamental conflict between order and chaos for horror. And the opportunity to see firsthand what is the relationship between theatrical and muscular tension and what can bring us relief when we meet to be afraid together for a short while.

Sensitive content

The show is recommended for viewers from the age of 16. The show features strobe lights, vulgar language, artificial blood, smoke, loud music, low-frequency sounds and self-harm.