THE LAST WINTER OF ADRIAN CROSS

A Warning to the Viewer

​

This is not entertainment. It is an exorcism. We are not here to be your "digestion aid" after a good meal. We are here to open the trapdoor to the World of Chaos and Void. The garden is closed. And Daddy’s sewn up.

 

Do you dare enter the mirror?

 

A Manifesto for the Stage

​

"Chaos and Void is not an artistic summer camp."

 

We gather in the dark to have mercy on humankind, but as a twisted friendship unravels, we are forced to ask: Are you my savior, or are you my sacrificer? In this theatre, the only path to salvation is the total destruction of the self. Loneliness hurts dryly, years after the tears; the audience becomes a graveyard of cobwebbed skeletons, craving not applause but the actor's vanishing into the abyss. Beauty is a lie - embrace the ugliness as your mirror, where redemption freezes in the lower winter.

 

The Argument

​

Theatre is dead. Long live the Theatre of Redemption.

We live in an age of "sentimental display." Actors cry false tears; audiences applaud empty monuments. The Last Winter of Adrian Cross autopsies the art form through the clash of Adrian (Actor of Glory) and Gabriel (Actor of Truth). What remains when applause fades and the actor stands alone in the cold?

​

Stay tuned!