Logue Lake is a local production co-created by writer Geordie Crawley and director Elise Wilson that uses headphones to take audiences on a choose-your-own horror adventure. Set in the genre’s most beloved milieu, a cabin in the woods, you are invited to switch between 5 radio frequencies while walking the perimeter of the cabin to create your own version of Logue Lake’s unfolding psychological thriller.

Four people, Regan (Alicia Osyka) and her brother Michael (Isaac Diamond), his girlfriend Carrie (Lila McGuire), and his best friend Alex (Timothy Green), [I see you, Mr Crawley, with your horror movie name references] go to the family cabin at Logue Lake for a weekend getaway. Things are, inevitably, a bit awkward at first as the foursome settle in and establish group dynamics, but before they even get the chance to get comfy, a stranger arrives. Hugh (Will O’Mahony) arrives at the door and gets invited in, and immediately we know we’re in danger, girl. Hugh is weird, his energy is off, the things he says come across wrong or too familiar, his whole vibe is just plain creepy.

The whole experience of Logue Lake is trying to work out why this guy showed up, why he’s so weird, and who will make it out of this cabin alive. I don’t think that’s giving away too much of the plot – hopefully audiences will be familiar enough with the tropes of an ensemble mystery in a horror setting to know that there will be bodily sacrifices. With Logue Lake, Crawley and Wilson subvert the genre in a big way by giving the audience a fair bit of control over piecing together the narrative, but they also make sure to add in all the delights horror fans have come to expect from their favourite stories and films.

In terms of overall storytelling, it’s hard to find fault with any aspect of Logue Lake’s production. The dialogue is both theatrical and naturalistic, and so is the acting. The actors deliver a hybrid of stage and film acting; because it’s promenade in the round, the actors don’t have to cheat out in a presentational way, and because they’re working in intimate 1:1 scenes while miked, they don’t have to project to the gods. So as audiences, we get to revel in the skill of these 5 local actors, up close and personal, as they embody their characters and fully inhabit their imaginary circumstances. The show’s exploration of queer identity through the lens of supernatural horror deserves more in-depth analysis than I am able to provide here, but suffice it to say, Crawley presents heartbreaking perspectives through his characters as they grapple with their realities.

The set (design by Samuel Diamond) is also instrumental in the storytelling, because it too hides and reveals as much or as little as we, the audience, choose. We have the option of viewing the performance from above or at ground level, and there are undoubtedly benefits and drawbacks in both. Both tiers offer seating, and you can move freely up or down throughout the performance, or you can find a good spot and plant yourself there. I chose to settle in at ground floor and move around a fair bit throughout the show. Sometimes I sat, sometimes I stood, sometimes I followed one or two actors as they moved, sometimes I stayed put and worried less about what I was seeing and focused in more on what I was hearing and flipping the radio channels. I didn’t feel like I missed out by not seeing what was going on, and I treated it more like a radio play/fictional podcast.

The lighting design (Peter Young) is really the only element that the audience doesn’t get a ‘say’ in, but it does help present our options and guide our eyes to points of interest throughout the performance. Some scenes unfold in darker ‘moonlit’ states outside the cabin, some lighting states invoke psychedelic visions, and crucial horror moments are treated with the proper sudden flashes and blackouts to heighten tension. To light each small, delineated space within and outside the cabin requires careful planning and precise focus, so Young’s part in the execution of the show’s vision is to be highly commended.

But truly, the production element that defines Logue Lake is its sound. The design by Ben Collins, with associate Chloe McCormack must, of necessity, be nearly faultless and flawless. To master a mix of live dialogue, pre-recorded inner monologues, and music by composer Louis Frere-Harvey (along with tunes from INXS, Divinyls and more) across 5 different radio channels is a gargantuan feat. The final product is as close to perfect as one could imagine, with so much happening simultaneously. Sophia Morgan‘s god-like role as stage manager, with her finger on the pulse of everything happening in the show, is fundamental to Logue Lake‘s superb achievements.

From my perspective as a reviewer, Logue Lake is the perfect finale for Perth Festival 2024, as it showcases the excellence that exists within our arts industry here in Boorloo/Perth and in the minds, talents, and skills of our independent artists. Logue Lake is easily one of the outstanding performance works of Perth Festival 2024 – it’s a technically impressive, immersive, intriguing, exciting, and entertaining live theatrical experience.

CICELY BINFORD

Logue Lake runs from 23 Feb – 3 Mar at The Studio Underground. For tickets and more information, visit here.