Occupation, the refugee crisis, humiliation, displacement – Silence screams in pain for the current climate in the Middle East. Everyone will take something different from this politically-charged piece of performance art, but the anguish and devastation on the actors' faces will haunt you for the rest of the Fringe.
There are moments that might well go over your head. The barely audible lecture on top of the bus, the violin made from a burnt out umbrella and flowers, and everyone weeping about hammering a large bin – it's not altogether clear how some of the scenes fit together. But the arrrival of the stilt walkers—leather masks, billowing capes and wheels of fire that burn anything in their path— is guaranteed to induce a wave of panic. Their looming presence is not something I'll forget any time soon.
There's a problem though: Silence is too tight-lipped when it comes to trigger warnings. There are scenes of people trapped in burning buses and children being gassed to death, and if you've got a fear of dolls you're definitely going to want to steer clear because the tiny child mannequins are utterly terrifying.There's also a lot of smoke and fire, which is important to know if you've got a dodgy chest or asthma. But none of this is mentioned in the blurb, or by box office staff upon entering the square at EICC. In a piece that focuses on the importance of humanity, it shouldn't be too much to ask for them to care for their audience and prepare them for what they are about to see.