The Factory - Reviews

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At the conclusion, as we stand with the naked actors in the imagined Gas Chamber, one feels this visceral and brave work as a powerfully theatrical cry against human brutality and an indictment of the enduring evil of fascism.


Badac Theatre Company's new show "The Factory" takes us straight into the heart of darkness…. For an unforgettable 50 minutes, in the dank cellars beneath the Pleasance, we, the audience, become fellow prisoners, shouted at, harangued, told to line up and move on right into the final Gas Chamber itself, alongside the three trembling, terrified, eventually naked companions who are the members of the cast… It is a horrific experience


This is Badac’s attempt to conjure the horror of Auschwitz and Birkenau, and even by the company's robust standards, its a gut churning piece of work…. But the end, as everybodyis herded into a tiny room to watch the inevitable play out - the victims now dead eyed and naked - is an almost unbearable spectacle of horror, like 10,000 hammers crashing into your stomach


"They came for the Jews, and i didn't speak up because i wasn't a Jew." attributed to Martin Niemoller, this sentiment comes to mid during Badac Theatre's disturbing and compelling reconstruction of the death journey of so many of Hitler's final solution victims… This is not a theatre of entertainment, but of instruction: a reminder of what happens when good men do nothing. This will leave you numb


Disturbing, harrowing, shocking - these words aren't strong enough to describe the emotions stirred by "The Factory"... An important play to experience, but definitely not for the faint hearted


This is totally immersive theatre. The company bludgeons its audience into submission over an increasingly uncomfortable 50 minutes… This is a distressing experience. One which is powerful enough to force you to remind yourself that you are an audience member, that these are actors and that this is a piece of theatre


In a dank, airless room beneath Edinburgh's Pleasance Courtyard, I am waiting to die. Beside me, a naked woman is whispering her boyfriend's name. A naked man is crying out that he is scared. Another naked man is standing tall, singing the Hatikva… This is less theatre than direct, visceral experience… If this sounds like a gruelling experience for a sunny August afternoon, it is. But it is also one that heads straight for the gut, and that sticks in the memory

For all information on The Factory please mail Steve Lambert via the company

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