‘Carrion Communion’: the cost of blindness

By Savannah Farris

How often do we genuinely, truly examine the things we do, or do we question things that just “make sense” because they have always been a given, and we know no other way? Is blind acceptance always that recognisable? Well, this is exactly what Carrion Communion calls the audience to reflect on. It’s the type of thought-provoking performance you walk away from feeling you need a few moments to fully digest and appreciate the depth of its commentary.

Carrion Communion’s writers, Kimi de Beer and Mateo Komlosy (both Honours in Drama and Theatre Studies (Creative Writing) students), set the performance in the dystopian Last Village, where god (embodied in the torso of a mannequin and dubbed as “Quinn” by the villagers) has been murdered. 

Much like the real world, the Last Village is built around a system of religion and hierarchy, both of which disintegrate with the mannequin’s destruction. A scramble to recreate a sense of order in a “post-god” life ensues.

The manner in which each character reacts to Quinn’s death, mutual suspicion arising amongst the villagers in their attempts to find the murderer, highlight different nuances of the relationship between human nature and religion. The performance’s commentary is “an investigation into the power structures we’ve built around belief and why we give them the permission to exist,” explains de Beer. 

Kolomsy adds that it highlights a common theme throughout religions around the world, where “you’re required to sacrifice something to express your commitment to your faith, and generally, the more extreme the sacrifice is, the holier you are, even if it comes at extreme personal cost to yourself.” 

The tensions caused by the villagers attempting to establish a new hierarchy calls the audience to reflect on the current hierarchies of our world, to question whether we uncritically abide by them for the mere sake of it, or whether a genuine foundation exists.

The play’s most significant satire is directed at “blind belief in religion and the human handling of spirituality in extreme instances,” remarks De Beer. This critique is depicted by the Wise Man (played by Matthew Gray, Honours in Drama and Theatre Studies (Voice and Speech) student) tearing out his own eyes, as he feels he has no right to have two eyes and the full ability of sight within a context where his deity has only one. 

The characters of the ruler and advisor (played by Amy Olivier (Honours in Drama and Theatre Studies (Voice and Speech) student) and Kolomsy, respectively) convey the critique of blind belief, in a progressively absurdist manner. The ruler and advisor fan the flames of chaos that erupt with the mannequin’s destruction and initiate the witch hunt for the murderer. Next, they perceive the appearance of an infant (played by Llewellyn de Wet, first-year BA Drama and Theatre Studies (Technical) student) to be Quinn reincarnated. The ruler and advisor then interpret the infant’s subsequent death as a “message” from Quinn that the villagers should join him in death. This prompts the ruler and advisor to commit suicide as an ultimate expression of their devotion. 

This all occurs, without the characters acknowledging the sheer absurdity of their actions. The irony is heightened when the audience realises that “god” is not dead at all: the ever-present narrator, played by De Beer, is revealed to be the true god. Blinded by their fixation on the visible and physical elements of their religion, the characters lose sight of the divine presence that has remained before them all along.

Given its premise and themes of religion, sacrifice and power, Carrion Communion had every reason to become an intense, philosophically weighty production. Yet the script and stage actions seamlessly weave moments of humour throughout, allowing its social commentary to resonate without ever feeling heavy-handed. This deft balancing act did not go unnoticed, with the production making it through to the Premièr Teaterfees semi-finals and earning the awards for Best Text and Best Design.

In an age where unquestioned beliefs and inherited systems continue to shape society, Carrion Communion feels remarkably timely. It reminds us that blind acceptance and religious extremism are rarely as obvious as we imagine them to be. Through its blend of satire, humour and philosophical reflection, the production challenges audiences not only to question the villagers of the Last Village, but their own beliefs and hierarchies of the world beyond the stage.