"The other issue is the show’s erratic pacing. A Looney Tunes-esque chase scene and a mystical ritual both feel interminable. While other scenes are too short, and characters lack depth. Amaya has a sparky energy, but their character is less developed in relation to the others. And the characters of Francis and Sandra speak in only one scene, in the pizza shop, though the dialogue is incredibly compelling: candid exchanges about what it’s like to be a woman in a world of modern dating, and romantic metaphors about isolation and desire. I could’ve watched an entire show of this conversation."
Read more
"Barron stirs these ingredients and others into a troubling cauldron, and the play can be challenging to take in; its uncorseted structure of scenes and vignettes and near-absence of traditional plot sometimes make it seem like working notes toward a play rather than a finished work. To some extent that is surely by intention, and some scenes that were confusing on first pass clicked into place for me in retrospect. Even so, and despite the production’s persuasively low-key performances, one wonders whether an outside director might have helped shape it to be even more effective, especially in the longer Witch sections. But Barron’s thoughtful ambivalence cuts through the occasional mess. She’s up there under glass for us, spilling her guts."
Read more
"But although this is Shareen's/Barron's story, SHHHH is Constance Shulman's show. Shulman bewitches as Sally aka "Witchy Witch," Shareen's sister who does magic rituals and ASMR on her off-hours from being a postal worker. Shulman is given free reign to be weird and wacky — she puts her voice-acting background to commanding use, with her every word measured, grave, like she's about to prophesy either your ultimate bliss or your impending doom."
Read more
"At first, the production, expertly designed by Arnulfo Maldonado and lit by Jen Schriever, gives off sex-dungeon vibes (there’s black plastic on the walls in the lobby), but once Witchy Witch goes on a date at Brooklyn’s Morbid Anatomy Museum, the scenes all start to look like … exhibits. Shareen’s bathroom seems a bit like a habitat display: A wax woman with viscera piled on her belly rests in a vitrine; the naturalistic pizzeria set rolls out like a little diorama. It’s clever, but Barron falters at staging action scenes inside this crowded space, particularly when Witchy Witch starts running around the tableaux, chasing Kyle to enact revenge on her sister’s behalf. The play desperately tries to turn comic but can’t, both because Barron doesn’t have the staging savvy for farce and because the show is already so far gone in inky-black despair."
Read more
"Despite the pacifying title of her latest work, Shhhh, now making its world premiere at the Atlantic Theater's Stage 2, this one is even more discomfiting than the rest. While Barron's past works teeter on the edge of an abyss, thrilling their audiences with the incredible feat of remaining upright, Shhhh fumbles through painful vignettes without a trace of safety, or a guiding hand to reassure us that we're journeying toward something — even if that something is less than solid ground."
Read more
Warning: Shhhh, a world premiere commissioned by Atlantic Theater Company from Clare Barron, Susan Smith Blackburn Prize-winner for Dance Nation, may just be the most visceral play you will ever see, describing all bodily fluids graphically from saliva to urine to feces and blood. It is not for the faint-hearted. Shhhh is meant for those who like adventurous, cutting- edge theater, performance that pushes the envelope. You may not like it but you will not easily forget it.
Read more
"That Shhhh is a strange play isn’t really open to debate. I think it works, which is certainly debatable. Bumping into a longtime friend and fellow critic on the way out of the theatre, I was somewhat taken aback that he felt the opposite about its merits, and yet I fully understand how it might not have been for him. But if an evening of outside-the-box theatre dealing with multiple aspects of sexuality and sensuality, is something you crave, then you’ll be most interested in what Clare Barron has to say about the moment at hand in 2022 American life."
Read more
"At the end of the day, Shhh is a tease. It promises sex and kink and emotional depth and looking deeply at trauma and assault, but it gives only a hint of these items, too afraid to fully indulge in the seduction."
Read more