When I leave the Maison Théâtre on Friday evening, it’s pouring rain. It’s dark, the streets are soaked, my trench coat is getting wet fast. A flash of lightning, then one-two-three-four-five: the eye of the storm is five kilometers from downtown. It’s the storm we’ve been waiting for these past few days in Montreal. I walk home; I need some fresh air. The barometric pressure is through the roof.
The fierce winds, rain, and night transform the city into a sort of gothic Gotham. It’s the perfect time to go see, as a matter of urgency, Manuela Infante’s sublime play at the TransAmérique Festival.
To the night, the vampires!
The Chilean director’s play is incredibly intelligent and subtle, wrapped in a beautiful package of South American neo-Gothic style reminiscent of Demián Rugna’s horror films and Mariana Enriquez’s sordid yet poetic short stories. Right away, the vampires are just grotesque enough to evoke the “possessed” people, poisoned by pesticides, found in these modern South American works. These vampires are exhausted, part-time night workers, turned into the living dead by the constant hum of a field of wind turbines that never stop spinning.
Physically, it’s incredibly impressive. The “vampires,” played by David Gaete and Marcela Salinas with almost supernatural energy, writhe and jump about, gasping for breath as if suffering from neurological damage. They are creatures not quite human, not quite dead. But they are thirsty, just like the “green” renewable energy industry.
The vampires are gasping for breath like dead bats by the hundreds, falling from the sky with no signs of impact on their tiny bodies, blown apart from the inside by the barometric pressure created by the wind farms.
Manuela Infante says, “I love the hybrid creature of the vampire, who claims a territory, a land, and a people, and stubbornly persists in transgressing colonial divisions.”
Somewhere between social and environmental critique, gothic comedy, and experimentation with voice, body, and breath, Vampyr is one of those very rare works that touch on the genius of the art of theater. The text is at times like a scientific report, at times like a Greek tragedy, and at times like a nightmare that echoes in your ears upon waking.
In the front row, the playwriting students were screaming with laughter. By the end of the play, the audience felt congested, struggling a bit to breathe, their lungs shrinking under the pressure of the “environmental report” that serves as the play’s central theme.
The play will be performed two more times, on Saturday, May 30, and Sunday, May 31, 2026. There are still a few tickets left, and I highly recommend going to see it. As for me, I’ll be following Manuela Infante’s work very closely. And so, I’m writing this article at night, with the windows wide open. Strangely enough, I’m not tired.
Practical Information
Where? Maison Théâtre, at 245 Ontario Street East
When?
Saturday, May 30 at 7 p.m. (with a Q&A after the show)
Sunday, May 32 at 7 p.m.