Reviewed by:

• Inés De Ulloa by Sergio Rubio
• Victoria Jane Rasbridge

Since his first appearance in El burlador de Sevilla (1630), the figure of serial womanizer Don Juan has loomed large in literature. While the protagonist’s deceitful antics have been revered and even emulated by many, little consideration has been shown to his victims and others unfortunate enough to cross his path. Yet with the emergence and rise of fourth-wave feminism empowering the individual and demanding acknowledgment of widespread abuse, there is a new and increasing pressure to look back and to reconsider injudicious idolatry and unthinking acceptance of problematic characters. As a result, new theatrical projects are now beginning to reimagine once-celebrated narratives to finally give voice to those who had been silenced. Inés de Ulloa, inspired by José Zorrilla’s Don Juan Tenorio (1844), is a masterful example of this careful reimagining.

Like its source text, this one-woman play is set in early modern Spain, but rather than adhering to Zorrilla’s narrative, it highlights the tragic consequences of Don Juan’s actions and tempers his legend with the torment it disregards. Contrary to Zorrilla’s text, which relates Inés de Ulloa’s death, Rubio’s play finds its title character alive and well, cloistered in a convent where she has been sequestered since her fateful encounter with Don Juan. While alone in her room, Inés is interrupted by the arrival of a man who, it transpires, is the now-elderly Don Juan himself. Having learned that Inés is still alive, he has come to see her and hear her side of the story. Over the course of the play, Inés relates their love story from her perspective, revealing what really happened to her, and explaining how their meeting changed the course of her life forever. The production at the Courtyard Theatre, however, had an unexpected twist: the man with whom Inés speaks never actually appeared on stage. While this decision certainly had the potential to undermine the sincerity of the performance, in actuality it produced two productive outcomes.

Lorena Roncero (Inés de Ulloa) in Inés de Ulloa. Photo: Miguel A. Almanza.

Firstly, the absence of the male figure on the stage allowed Inés both literally and physically to appropriate the voice and body of the man responsible for violating hers. The empowerment achieved through this appropriation was patent in the inverted power [End Page 369] dynamics whereby it was Don Juan, rather than Inés, who was held captive, unable to escape the room until Inés finished her piece. At times this appropriation was physical—at one point Inés seized the candlestick from her nightstand and danced back and forth, jousting with her invisible opponents as she embodied Don Juan. On other occasions, the appropriation was linguistic—Inés repeatedly recited the words that Don Juan once wrote to her, so much so that they became devoid of meaning and the audience experienced the confusion she felt at their emptiness. Initially, these various moments of appropriation were calm, even playful, but as the play developed so too did its violence. Finally, the audience was confronted with Inés’ rape. As Inés relived her rape, she was forced back into her own body and into a familiar experience. Meanwhile, the lighting, scenography, and staging combined to immerse the audience in her torment. The blood-red lighting, matching the words inscribed on the underlayer of her habit, flashed on and off as the actress violently threw her body around the stage. The unsettling silence that followed was punctuated, at first, by her sobs of hurt and anger as she crawled along the stage underneath the bed, and then by the screeching sound of the bed being dragged along the floor, the deliberately painful noise causing the audience to experience for themselves at least a fraction of Inés’ agony. The voyeuristic position that the production made the audience assume mimicked the...

审阅者：

• 塞尔吉奥·卢比奥 (Sergio Rubio) 拍摄的伊内斯·德·乌略亚 (Inés De Ulloa)
• 维多利亚·简·拉斯布里奇

自从他在《塞维利亚的布尔拉多》（El Burlador de Sevilla，1630）中首次出现以来，连环好色之徒唐璜的形象就在文学中占据了重要地位。虽然主角的欺骗性滑稽动作受到许多人的尊敬甚至效仿，但很少有人考虑到他的受害者和其他不幸遇到他的人。然而，随着第四波女权主义的出现和兴起，赋予个人权力并要求承认普遍存在的虐待行为，因此存在着一种新的、越来越大的压力，要求我们回顾并重新考虑不明智的偶像崇拜和对有问题的人物的不假思索的接受。因此，新的戏剧项目现在开始重新构思曾经著名的叙事，最终为那些被压制的人们发声。伊内斯·德·乌略亚 (Inés de Ulloa)的灵感源自何塞·索里拉 (José Zorrilla) 的《唐·胡安·特诺里奥》( Don Juan Tenorio) (1844)，是这种精心重新构思的杰出典范。

与原著文本一样，这部单女剧以近代早期的西班牙为背景，但它并没有遵循索里拉的叙述，而是强调了唐璜行为的悲剧性后果，并用它所忽视的折磨来调和他的传奇。与索里拉讲述伊内斯·德·乌略亚之死的文字相反，卢比奥的戏剧发现主角还活着，而且活得很好，她在修道院里与世隔绝，自从她与唐璜的命运邂逅后，她就被隔离在修道院里。当伊内斯独自一人待在房间里时，一个男人的到来打断了伊内斯的生活，而这个男人就是现在年老的唐璜本人。得知伊内斯还活着后，他来看望她并听听她的故事。在剧中，伊内斯从她的角度讲述了他们的爱情故事，揭示了她身上真正发生的事情，并解释了他们的相遇如何永远改变了她的人生轨迹。然而，庭院剧院的演出出现了意想不到的转折：与伊内斯交谈的那个男人实际上从未出现在舞台上。虽然这一决定肯定有可能破坏表演的诚意，但实际上它产生了两个富有成效的结果。

伊内斯·德·乌略亚 (Inés de Ulloa) 中的洛雷娜·龙塞罗 (Lorena Roncero )。照片：米格尔·A·阿尔曼扎。

首先，舞台上男性形象的缺席使得伊内斯无论在字面上还是在身体上都可以模仿那个侵犯她的男人的声音和身体。通过这种挪用所实现的赋权是倒置权力[结束第369页]动态中的专利，其中被俘虏的是唐·胡安，而不是伊内斯，在伊内斯完成她的作品之前无法逃离房间。有时，这种挪用是身体上的——有一次，伊内斯从床头柜上抓起烛台，来回跳舞，当她化身为唐璜时，与她看不见的对手较量。在其他场合，这种挪用是语言上的——伊内斯反复背诵唐璜曾经写给她的那些话，以至于这些话变得毫无意义，观众也体会到了她对这些话的空虚感到的困惑。最初，这些不同的挪用时刻是平静的，甚至是有趣的，但随着戏剧的发展，它的暴力也随之增加。最后，观众面对了伊内斯的强奸。当伊内斯重温她的强奸经历时，她被迫回到自己的身体并进入一种熟悉的经历。与此同时，灯光、布景和舞台的结合让观众沉浸在她的痛苦之中。当这位女演员在舞台上猛烈地抛掷身体时，血红色的灯光与她的戏服底层上刻着的文字相匹配，闪烁着。接下来是令人不安的沉默，首先是她在床下沿着舞台爬行时受伤和愤怒的抽泣，然后是床在地板上被拖拽的尖叫声，这种故意制造痛苦的声音引起了观众的注意。至少亲身体验伊内斯痛苦的一小部分。制作让观众假设的偷窥姿势模仿了......