You survived!

Sure, your friends and family might be butchered and your sanity is probably hanging on a by sinewy thread, but you made it to the end. 

In the world of horror films, being a final girl might seem like a triumph, a cinematic convention we applaud and find aspirational. But at the end of the day, a woman has to go through unimaginable brutality to claim such a prestigious title. 

Playwright Cesario Tirado Ortiz and director Teri Talo are exploring the less-than-flattering aspects of being a final girl with a world premiere of it’s been ten years since everyone died. a play about final girls. Trauma isn’t represented here in a neat and tidy way. The aggression, repression and depression are all unabashedly funneled through our main characters.

Staged by Open Space Arts in Uptown Chicago from March 21 to April 6, the play tells the story of three survivors of three separate killing sprees that find themselves forced to confront their shared history, unresolved trauma and a new potential threat. 

While surviving a slasher seems familiar, the survivors on display here are anything but. A trans man, a trans woman, and a final girl of color aren’t what you might expect to see in the hundreds of movies that hold this archetype. Overlooked people finally have a moment to be represented in this type of narrative and you’ll quickly find that the struggles they face existed long before a psychopath ripped their worlds to shreds. 

This dark comedy delivers on its promise. You’ll laugh and see a fair amount of blood. But a surprise corpse wasn’t what shocked me; it was the topics this play was interested in tackling. The (empty) promise of female solidarity. The guilt of being trans — ending the life of the person that came before. Friendships, relationships and…cannibalism?

(If you’re a fan of Yellowjackets, you’ll eat this right up.)

A creative collaboration of queerness culminates into something truly unique here. A lot of the artistic flexing comes not only from the writer or director, but out of necessity. Part of Chicago’s vibrant storefront theater scene, this theater is incredibly small; with only 25 seats, you’ll be feet away from the actors.

In this intimacy comes a bit of innovation. Short film, interpretive dance, and a dash of imagination help round out a story that would usually be able to be afforded by a bigger space or budget. There’s something eerie about the scrappy film that plays to set the mood at times. There’s something uncomfortable in seeing someone contort and scream in front of you when you really don’t have much of an option but to face these performances head on. 

Is this play perfect? No. A main character doesn’t really have a defined arc with a conclusion. A heightened performance that works in some areas might be cringey in others. But it’s experiential. There are genuine laughs here. Genuine moments of existential confrontation. Genuine moments of “holy shit, did that just happen?” There are twists and heaps of pathos and an authentic attempt at utilizing something as tangible as a serial killer for something as abstract as gender, desire, trauma. 

Is surviving the best outcome? After this production, you might not find the answer so clear cut.

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PHOTOS PROVIDED BY OPEN SPACE ARTS