When first hearing that our beloved Niles West Theatre Department was putting on a show about a woman who is sent to the electric chair, I decided to opt out of seeing the play. Frankly, I find that simple, one-line plot description dull. Each year, the combination of comedy and drama compliment each other well, but I wasn’t sure where I could even categorize a play about something so solemn. But, because our theatre department never fails to impress me, I gave the play a chance.

The Black Box was just as I expected it to be: it was set up as if it was one big machine, with images of wheels and other machine-like parts all over. The area was illuminated under a blue-ish-purple light, though these colors changed fairly often. Though bright lights were placed underneath each major wheel figure, the Black Box lived up to its name…the unlighted parts were dark, in every sense. The mood was black, if black could even be described as a mood. Eerie music crept through every crack of the seating and followed you out of the theatre. Waiting for the show to begin was uncomfortable.

As all eyes focused on center stage once the lights dimmed and the music concluded. The characters surprised the audience as they entered through the front doors, rather than from back stage. The ghostly music seemed to be more prevalent than before. The characters particularly put an emphasis on their body movements, with each movement being snake-like and smooth. Their hands and bodies were constantly moving to and from the other characters. The first scene set an uneasy tone for the rest of the play, as it was confusing and tense.

The first 25 minutes of the show fit into that exact description. The cast was located in 5 chairs, and the setting was simple. They spoke too briskly to understand- at first, I thought this would be an underlying problem throughout the show, but as the plot unfolded, I understood the reasoning behind it. Furthermore, the entire shows structure of choppy scenes and cut off lines pieced together as time went on. But, without watching the entire show through, it would be expected for any audience member to feel confused. The tense tone persisted.

I felt distant to the shows message- I have never married for financial security, nor have I dealt with an abusive, forceful husband. Watching the relationship between the two was almost unbearable- I continuously winced at their interactions. Though painful, the message behind the emotion laden characters went further than the awkward feeling of watching restless pain embody our main character.

The title suddenly began to make sense- machinal is machine. Though decorations and lighting surrounded the machine, the “real” machine is not based on physicality, bur rather based on the emotions and shaping experiences we all must go through. The show portrayed this machine as a constant and steady mark. The idea of being trapped, in some cases, is unescapable- but in other times, you don’t have to be trapped if you don’t want to be.

The decisions we make serve as the foundation of who we are and who we are becoming. Though our experiences diverge as we move further along our timeline of life, we all seem to be connected at the heart of life. The strive for happiness and the base we build around the idea of hope is, and continues to be, the base of our sanity. We hold onto our faith with a tight grasp, hoping to become the best versions of ourselves each day, even when put in situations where we seem both helpless and hopeless.

When you get thrown into the “machine” that is life, as our young stenographer did, remember it is your decision of how you will find your way around it. We all feel trapped at one point or another- just please don’t resort to killing your husband.