Written by Michael Hajiantonis and directed by Michael Zwiauer, Put Out His Eyes is a modern fairytale featuring a “loyal” young peasant (Daniel Morris) and his princess (Hannah Omisore), set in a remote, imagined time. The two must flee their besieged city, hiding themselves inside a cave that offers a new vantage point overlooking the ruins. While the man expects his “reward” for saving the noble, the princess is about to tell the bare, cruel truth: the king will never return with his knights to reclaim their city. The old social order has already collapsed.
Inspired by the biblical story of King Zedekiah, Put Out His Eyes swaps out its source material’s theological and moral message for a new metaphor. Here, commoners like the peasant are prohibited from directly gazing at the noble family’s faces. While it is not a universal rule practiced in the real world, as commoners usually had very limited access to sovereigns, such prohibition actually reminds me of the fantasy novel series Twelve Kingdoms. One of its stories conveys the importance of seeing each other’s face equally, indicating the potential for a more equal hierarchy even under the rule of a sovereign.
Put Out His Eyes explores what could unfold after such equality – after the peasant finally gazes unabashedly at his princess. It brings many more questions and ensues chaos, because the peasant has never been taught the meaning of equality. Hierarchy is already deeply inscribed in his veins, enabling him to start daydreaming about marrying the princess and becoming the new ruler of the ruined city. The princess eventually snuffed out his frenetic fantasy by put out his eyes, not simply as a former sovereign reinforcing the hierarchy, but as a woman rejecting a man. In the end, the pair leave the cave to explore a “brave new world,” an unknown place in the forest.
It is a shame that, despite the story’s rich potential, its theatrical presentation largely holds it back. The design is simple yet incomprehensible, with a pair of curtains and a round panel (said to be a moon) hang on the back wall, which is neither informative nor aesthetically eye-pleasing. The lighting (Melody Mengyun Liu) mostly remains a blue and orange hue with some proper changes in key moments such as eye-gouging. It would certainly benefit the production more if the lighting could reflect the pair’s constantly shifting power dynamic.
Rather, much of that dynamic is illustrated through acting. Morris precisely captures the peasant’s overt humility and his later transformation into unbridled arrogance. Omisore also showcases a princess’s regal bearing as well as a woman’s unyielding spirit, despite some nervous stammering creeping into her line delivery.
In nature, Put Out His Eyes feels like a Kafkaesque allegory offering ample room for interpretation. One can certain reflect upon current social turmoil and issues about gender, class and hierarchy, or a purer form of power. One may also penetrate something less representational: the humble peasant’s transformation into a frenzied hysteric feels strangely organic and mysteriously addictive.
To some extent, the play achieves what its writer claims: “We want the audience to come away thinking about this for themselves and discussing what goes on, and we don’t necessarily want to force any conclusions.” It would benefit significantly from a more comprehensive directorial hand, including improved set design to enhance the ambiance and more thoughtful staging to demonstrate the nuanced, ever-shifting power dynamics between the duo for the sake of conveying its embedded messages.
