
For nearly a century horror has been one of the most popular genres in film, television, and novels. But you don’t find much horror on stage. Not anymore. When was the last time you saw a play that billed itself as horror only to find it didn’t scare you or disturb you or make you squirm? I can honestly say that the last time I felt disturbed and horrified by a theatrical production was when I saw Windsor Light’s Matilda in 2019. And I mean that in the best possible way. It was a big budget musical aimed at children – but it was delightfully dark, twisted, and it genuinely upset me. I loved it.
Matilda aside, every now and then there are plays billed as horror. . . but they just don’t work. To me, they usually feel like parodies and pastiches of popular movies from my grandparent’s generation. I don’t feel any chills. I don’t get a prickly uncomfortable nagging desperate urge to flee the theatre, which is what I want from a horror. Isn’t that what most of us want from horror? It’s a genre that is intended to be laser-focused on evoking raw visceral emotion. It should dig into us, discover the deepest and most secret fears that dwell in our souls, and then exploit them for our discomfort and delight.
Mainstream audiences don’t know this but there was once a genre of horror in theatre that aimed for precisely the effects I described above. In fact, it was the most popular genre of theatre in France for about 60-years in the late 19th and early 20th centuries – until the real horrors of the World Wars led to its decline. Pretty understandable. It was called Grand Guignol. Many producers of that era tried to bring Grand Guignol to audiences in other parts of the world but, wouldn’t you know it, the only other country in which it found any success was Canada, specifically Montreal.
Grand Guignol was so popular and so effective at terrifying its audiences that it influenced other forms of art that will probably be more familiar to the audiences of today. When Hollywood started making horror films they leaned heavily on Grand Guignol for inspiration, which you can find (in a watered-down form, because Hollywood) in the classic Universal films of the 193’s that introduced characters like Dracula and Frankenstein’s Monster into cinema history. More directly – and far less watered-down – Grand Guignol inspired the classic EC Comics of the 1940s and 50s. These comics, which were far more popular than the superhero genre of the time, included classic series like Tales from the Crypt, The Haunt of Fear, and The Vault of Horror. And it was through the popularity of these comics that Grand Guignol indirectly inspired the more daring and adventurous horror movies that filmmakers began to create in the late 1960s and especially 1970s – as well as TV series such as The Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits. And it is through the influence of these movies and TV shows that the spirit and perverse devotion of Grand Guignol continues to be felt in the best horror of recent years. You can see its influence in Black Mirror, Hereditary, The VVitch, and countless other films and TV shows, from B-listers to prestige fare.
The major elements of Grand Guignol as a subgenre of horror, and an historical genre of theatre, can be summed up pretty simply: fearless and pitiless prodding of sacred taboos and orthodoxies; commitment to developing a ceaseless atmosphere of dread and unease; surprising and unique approaches to violence; raw desire and sexuality; a transgressive indulgence in unwholesomeness; dark comedy; satirization of social norms, bourgeois morality, propriety, and censorious pearl-clutching; ironic plot twists and character decisions; the subversion of idealism; a clear-eyed vision of the human condition, including its more disgusting features; the use of uncertainty and mystery to tap into the audience’s fear of being afraid; distrust of human authority and contempt for authoritarian institutions; exploration of universal secret longings and fears that make audiences feel exposed; the use of storytelling to purge uncomfortable feelings; the indulgence of passionate but repressed antisocial instincts; and a naturalistic use of upsetting themes that comment on contemporary society.
So there we were, those of us at Post Productions, studying Grand Guignol plays and examining that list of elements that I just shared with you – and it hit us. These elements can be found in nearly every play we produce. They’re present in our dark psychological thrillers like Equus, The Pillowman, and Blasted. They’re present in our dramas like Oleanna, Stop Kiss, and No Exit. Hell, you can even find them in our comedies like Fatboy, Criminal Genius, and Another Fucking Christmas Play: A Fucking Musical. This is what Post Productions does. So why not go all-in by resurrecting the genre of Grand Guignol and adapting it to the 21st century?
This is where the idea of Puppets in the Hands of a Malevolent God came from. We decided that we’d write some new Grand Guignol plays (one of which was inspired by a classic Grand Guignol script) and present them together as a double-bill – two new tales of terror for the price of one!
The first play in Puppets in the Hands of a Malevolent God is called The Cuckoo Birds, inspired by A Crime in the Madhouse or The Diabolical Ones by Andre de Lorde and Alfred Binet, produced for the first time in 1925. Very little of the script that inspired The Cuckoo Birds can be found in our production – in large part because the taboos and social norms of Canada in 2025 are different from those of France a century ago. But it gave us a starting point, some themes to explore, and a few fossilized bones of story. Ours is the story of Lucy (played by Chantel Paré), a young woman fleeing domestic violence who seeks safety in a women’s crisis shelter. As secrets about her life gradually spill out of her, they unexpectedly resonate with the primordial beliefs of other women in the shelter – specifically her roommates The Cripple (played by Archer Bennett) and The Foreigner (played by Rachel Hillis), who are devoted to an ancient, paralyzed, and nearly unresponsive resident named Annie-Frid (played by Courtesy Olympia Lebert-Dean). Something about her roommates frightens Lucy immediately, but the staff – including the centre’s administrator Mrs. Calhoun (played by Cheri Scratch) and psychologist Dr. Frederickson (played by Michael K. Potter) – dismiss her anxieties. By the end of her first night in the shelter, and after learning more about her roommates’ history from another resident named Robin (played by Camryn Kingsley), Lucy fears that what she thought would be a safe haven may actually be a ghastly trap from which she cannot escape. The Cuckoo Birds pokes its nose into several topics we’re often afraid to explore, such as the superficiality and deceptiveness of what we consider “safe”, the sometimes ambiguous nature of what constitutes domestic violence, the frail uselessness of many institutions and structures that are supposed to protect us, and the fragility of what’s considered “normal” in various parts of our lives. Lucy’s story is frightening on the surface, as a Grand Guignol play must be. But the deeper you dig into the meaning behind what’s happening, the more questions you ask yourself about what it all means, the more disturbing The Cuckoo Birds becomes.
After a brief intermission to allow the crew to mop up blood and assemble a new set, Puppets in the Hands of a Malevolent God continues with a brand-new play called Mothers of Nothing. In this story a group of mothers gathers in their parish church for a funeral reception following the untimely death of one of their sons. The assembled mothers include: Chantal (played by Courtesy Olympia Lebert-Dean), the grieving mother of the deceased young man; Penelope (played by Chantel Paré), a young mother of two girls who owns a restaurant with her husband; Birgitte (played by Cheri Scratch), an immigrant mother of two children; and Margaret (played by Camryn Kingsley), a single mother of infant twins who has just moved to this parish. Each of these mothers is grappling with the emotional effects and implications of the funeral they’ve just attended. Most affected, perhaps, is Claire (played by Archer Bennett), whose son Dominic (played by Gabriel Robinson) just performed his first funeral mass as an altar boy. Least affected is Elizabeth (played by Rachel Hillis), whose son Emmitt (played by Marcus Reaume) has been serving as an altar boy for several years. These mothers and the two altar boys are joined by parish priest Father Gavin (played by Michael K. Potter), who is worried that the reception may need to end prematurely due to an approaching thunderstorm. It turns out that one of the altar boys, Dominic, has a secret to share with Emmitt, and demands that Emmitt share a secret in return. The consequences leave one altar boy dead and the mothers in turmoil as they learn a terrifying truth about what lies beyond this life. As with the other play in this double-bill, Mothers of Nothing is a terrifying story, balanced with some comedy. And it too becomes far more disturbing the deeper you dig and the more you think. It explores the nature of motherhood – what it means, when it matters, why it matters, and perhaps when and why it doesn’t matter. It raises questions about what truly motivates us, and the unknowable power of human impulse. And it confronts the audience with the vast gulf between what we believe and what we know about our existence as human beings. . . and our relationship to the larger universe.
If you’ve ever watched a horror movie on mute you know how important sound design and music is to the atmosphere and power of the genre. So we brought on extraordinary local musician Shane Trowbridge to compose and record a musical score for each play in Puppets in the Hands of a Malevolent God. We’ve also partnered with Mitchell Branget of New Way Media Productions to create the gore that horror audiences rightly expect – only this time, unlike a movie, it’s right in front of you and live. Their talents, combined with the creative skill of every cast member and every other crew member involved, are about to blow you away this October.
If you, like me, have been waiting impatiently to experience true horror live and on stage, don’t miss Puppets in the Hands of a Malevolent God. You might want to see it a few times.
Puppets in the Hands of a Malevolent God will be performed at The Shadowbox Theatre (1501 Howard ave., corner of Howard & Shepherd, Windsor, Ont.) October 10, 11, 16, 17, 18, 23, 24 & 25. Showtime 8:00 PM (doors open 7:30). Tickets can be purchased for $20 for the first weekend of performances (Oct. 10 & 11), $25 for the second weekend (Oct. 16, 17 & 18), and $30 for the third and final weekend (Oct. 23, 24 & 25) via postproductionswindsor.ca or at the door (cash, debit, or credit card) if seats are still available. Starring Gabriel Robinson, Marcus Reaume, Chantel Paré, Archer Bennett, Rachel Hillis, Cheri Scratch, Courtesy Olympia Lebert-Dean, Camryn Kingsley, and Michael K. Potter. Written by Michael K. Potter. Directed and produced by Michael K. Potter and Fay Lynn. Original score by Shane Trowbridge. Special effects by Mitchell Branget. Costumes and makeup by Archer Bennett. Promotional photography by Anthony Sheardown Photography. Posters and programs designed by Kris Simic. Presented by Post Productions in association with New Way Media Productions.

