“Voyeurs. Side B” came to Mar del Plata how the works arrive that have already found their temperature: with the oiled text, the cast with reflections and the public willing to follow an uncomfortable game. In the Water Room of the Four Elements Theater The piece confirms, function after function, that desire is not exhausted: it moves. And that “watching”—when well written and better acted—can be a way of re-touching what seemed lost.
Coming from the Buenos Aires circuit, in “La Feliz” it was established as one of those proposals that are discussed on the sidewalk and return in the form of a recommendation. It is not a minor fact that on Saturdays they play to a full house.
The work starts from a couple worn out by coexistence, that wear and tear that does not make noise but leaves marks: “bored”, “disappointed by the lost desire”, says its synopsis, before the device turns on the dramatic engine: in front of it appears “the other”, sensual and mysterious, and with her fantasy as fuel and as a trap. On stage, voyeurism does not operate as mischief but as structure: the third look does not “add”, it complicates; It does not liberate, it requires negotiating limits. Because the point is not only what you see, but what you invent to support what you experience.
The merit of “Voyeurs. Side B” is that it does not fall into vulgarity (that typical fate when sex becomes the theme and not dramatic material). And there comes one of its keys: Walter Hugo Ghedin He does not write from the slogan but from the double office. Psychiatrist and sexologist, but also playwright with theatrical experience and training; His profile places him writing and adapting various materials, and lists his own works such as “The Everyman’s Games”, “Freud and Jung” and the theatrical version of “The Mourning Vagina”, in addition to adaptations of Chekhov and Tolstoy. That combination is noticeable: the text understands the mechanics of desire, but it also knows when a scene needs air, punchline or silence.
In that intelligence, the direction of Mariano Dossena choose a rhythm that avoids underlining. The work advances without asking permission: when it borders on the tragic, it does not stay there to live; When you enable laughter, you don’t use it as anesthesia. And that balance is a success in a material where the edge (fantasy/perversion, game/crime, intimacy/exposition) is always one step away.
The cast maintains that pulse with a precision that is not only technical: it is moral. Monica Salvador It works with a very rare energy—that of someone who still desires, but already knows the price of desire—and gives thickness to the moments where, suddenly, what seemed like comedy becomes a confession. Cristian Sabaz It depicts a husband who tries to manage control as if it were property, and in that attempt he reveals himself to be more fragile than dominant. In counterpoint, Victoria Carreras He moves with a remarkable elasticity: his character can be a mirror, a threat or a refuge, depending on the angle of the light. The youngest —Juan Manuel Fernandez and Clara Campos— they provide timing and speed without “acting youth” as a gimmick: they are at the service of the conflict.
The items do their job without attracting attention (which is the true praise). Costumes and scenery Nicolas Nannilighting Claudio Del Biancooriginal music by Rony Keselman: everything builds that universe of blinds, windows and out of focus where the work breathes. Furthermore, space plays in its favor: in the Water Room Closeness is not a plus, it is part of the pact. Looking from your seat is too similar to looking from a window: the theater, for a while, returns to the voyeuristic origin of the spectator.
If anyone wants to understand why Ghedin moves comfortably in this field, it is enough to look at his course. In 2019 he shone with “Delirio de amor”—another piece of his—on Buenos Aires billboards. And “La vagina enlutada” had a life of its own as a theatrical comedy based on her book of the same name. It is no coincidence: his theater insists on a point where social conversation becomes intimate, and intimacy becomes politics of the body.
In Mar del Plata“Voyeurs. The B Side” works because it understands something simple: fantasy is not escapism; It is administration of desire. And when reality disappoints—almost always—the theater becomes the place where that disappointment can be said without morality and without cynicism. It comes out wanting to argue: not to resolve anything, but to accept that desire, like theater, lives on what is not fully shown.
by RN
Image gallery
