The broad specter-spectrum when it comes to ghosts is limited to the dichotomy of baddies and goodies. There are the spook-you-till-you-scream, chain-rattling, malevolent haunts that will get you. And there are the friendly kind— the happy haunts who materialize for a midnight spree with the vocalizing and harmonizing and socializing. But what if neither of those categories were true? What if ghosts just were? They exist; they drift clueless in the woods while listening to music and have no intention of helping or hurting you.
When I was a lad there was an anime called Paranoia Agent that questioned all perception of reality and illusion. The music was hypnotic and jarring, harmonies clashing with sharp metallic screeches and traditional Noh theater horns and strings. The theme song is called “Dream Island: Obsessional Park.” Baltimore Theatre Project’s exquisite moving work of art, Dream Island, Directed by Naoko Maeshiba, and created by the entire team (listed below) is an obsessional park where dreams are shredded and collaged together in a papier-mãchè sculpture of light,