Tender Mercies @ The Bread & Roses Theatre

01.10.2022

Attending Collette Cullen’s piece Tender Mercies, after having previously reviewed her award-winning script When Rachel Met Fiona, I was interested to see her re-telling of a story which had already received some cultural interest. 

The play concerned the story of the woman who lay dead in her home for a year before being discovered by her twin brother, and it re-imagined what her life might have been like up until this point. I think Collette Cullen did a good job of bringing to life her personality and lifelong yearning for human connection. The script jumped across the timelines of her life, from childhood through to old age, and built the journey that such a woman might have had. One aspect of the script I really enjoyed was the multi-role play between her and her hairdressing clients, however, it felt a bit too obvious that all these relationships would’ve been negative. Might there have been an opportunity for some stronger human connection? Overall the concept had good potential and allowed for what should’ve been a smooth fringe show, with fast-changing scenes played by one compelling character.

The set supported the pace of the show by having all the props onstage throughout. But this meant little was left to the imagination, with bottles of wine sat out for the entire performance despite not really being relevant until the final quarter of the show. The dolls house sat in the corner implied we were going to see aspects of childhood, which again removed aspects of surprise. Therefore while the set was functional, it simplified the show a little too much.

The show was let down in its potential by Wendy Fisher’s performance. Despite having some success in the role, such as her ability to adopt several roles and ages, her performance lacked conviction and frequently had to be prompted on lines. Each aspect of the role could have been pushed further, and on the odd occasion that her characterisation was pulling you in, you would be disrupted again by her request for a line. It is disappointing to see a show let down by something so fundamental in theatre, and returning from the show I had to check that Wendy hadn’t stepped in last minute on someone else’s behalf. 

Hopefully, Collette can make some revisions to a script that has good potential, and re-cast for a stronger performance of Tender Mercies.

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Prima Facie @ Harold Pinter Theatre

Photo credit: Helen Murray

Prima Facie, starring Jodie Comer, is a one-woman show depicting the growth of a working-class girl from the North of England, Tessa, as she goes through law school. Thrilled by the challenge which practising law presents her (spot any inconsistencies in a testimony so that it cannot possibly be believed beyond reasonable doubt) Tessa sails through her studies as a lawyer and begins winning cases. However, when she becomes a victim of sexual assault, her conviction that the justice system works for all is challenged. 

Anybody who has seen Killing Eve will know that Jodie Comer thrives in multi-role play, and this piece is no exception. Throughout the piece Jodie presents two versions of Tessa. Her ‘authentic self’ – when at home with her family, or in monologue to the audience – where she speaks in a thick Liverpudlian accent using colloquial language, and her ‘improved self’ – when in dialogue with her fellow law students- where her accent is significantly muted. The show follows this see-sawing effect, only departing when she embodies a new character altogether, in turn offering more voices, postures and gaits. Her ability to carry the piece with its several characters was impressive but not surprising. 

The staging of the piece was simple in theme, adopting a courtroom-styled stage, with two large wooden desks centre stage, as case files formed the walls of the stage. The simplicity of the set allowed Jodie to manipulate the desks to suit each scene, whether that’s standing on them when speaking in a courthouse, or dancing on them at a nightclub, the desks were transformed to suit the setting. This was a necessary component of such a fast-paced piece and the courtroom style served a looming presence in the later, more sinister scenes. 

The content of the script was witty but poignant. Highlighting first the class and gender imbalances in top universities, before delving deep into the often blurry, and traumatic recollections of sexual assault. The show proves that the justice system’s principle of beyond reasonable doubt, which was developed in 1935, unsurprisingly fails to succeed in prosecuting the guilty, and protecting the innocent in crimes in all cases, most especially when the recollection of events is blurry or witnesses lacking.

I won’t give any more away here, other than to say this is a transformative piece, with a simultaneously hilarious and heartbreaking performance from Jodie Comer.

Fair play @ Bush theatre

(Photo credit: Ali Wright) 22.01.22

Fair Play focuses on the growing friendship of two teen athletes, whose shared determination to make it to the athletics world championships unites them, against the odds. The play centres the around the theme of what constitutes a ‘head start’ in athletics, where privilege and opportunity seem insignificant, but body types come under intense scrutiny.

The staging for the show was minimalist, with just a single red carpet floor, performed in the round, with a few metal structures forming climbing frames on opposite corners of the stage. These metal structures facilitated the girl’s training sessions, as well as acting as hang out spots in their free time. Lighting was used frequently throughout to help bring to life their races, with a digital clock displayed on the ground, and flashing lights as they ran. This was a really effective use of a small space, but I would’ve liked to have seen the set go further, maybe with scene changes to reflect their evolving relationship.

Overall, the thematic content of the play lead to an interesting and current debate on women’s sports, as well as womanhood more broadly. It revels in the joys of friendships, while highlighting dark sides to competitive sports. However, the fact the script centres so much around their training sessions, and solely on two characters, limited its options for dramatisation and often left us wanting more to watch.

The performances by NicK King and Charlotte Beaumont were thorough, with excellent physicalisation of the racing, and believable ability to convey emotions as well as their ever-changing relationship. One thing that bothered me in the direction was their almost never-ending out of breath speech, which I felt somewhat laboured the point and could have been used more sparingly. Nonetheless a well thought out and dedicated performance.

If you have a passion for current affairs and athletics, this is a great minimalist watch.

The Rhythmics @ The Southwark Playhouse

(Photo: Alex Brenner) 08.12.2021

Think the full monty meets the technological age, and you have new British musical comedy The Rhythmics. Grey, a middle-aged single dad of Silva who mourns his failed career as a rock star, is encouraged to audition for Nick & The Rhythmics, only to realise he has unwittingly signed up for an all-male Rhythmic Gymnastics group. In a bid to prove to his daughter that he can commit to something, he begrudgingly joins the group which gives him a new sense of direction.

The Rhythmics is a hilarious, heartwarming and refreshingly modern tale about companionship, perseverance and regret. It isn’t all men in leotards and twirling ribbons – although the choreography and musical numbers are brilliant – the real heart of the piece stems from the relationships these burly men form with one another in the process. This laugh out loud comedy provides the perfect tonic for the chaos that we are experiencing right now. One of the most beautiful aspects of the piece was that it was part performed in sign language, with all of the dialogue presented in text on a screen upstage, so that it was accessible for deaf viewers.

It is a harsh irony that due to Covid-19 the rest of the show’s run at The Southwark Playhouse has been cancelled, but hopefully in the new year it will be possible to catch this piece again!

Rainer @ Arcola Theatre

04.10.2021

Arriving at Arcola Theatre’s outdoor space, I was pleasantly surprised, without yet knowing how suitable the venue would be for this piece. Sure enough, the opening scene showed Sorcha Kennedy as Rainer, walking through the audience, helmet, and ‘Angel Deliveries’ jacket on. This introduced the play as one which frequently broke the fourth wall, as Rainer began by addressing the audience directly.

Depicting the story of a woman who is forced to take up a job as a food delivery cyclist, as she isn’t quite ‘making it’ as a writer, Rainer is a funny, witty and at times, sinister piece. Throughout the show Sorcha performs multi-role play, becoming all the people Rainer interacts with, including an ex-boyfriend, a current love interest, and her boss, just to name a few. Her use of accents was a joy to watch, and the multi-role play really showed her versatility as an actor. I think the multi-role play could’ve been tidied up in places; I would’ve liked to have seen her perform the characters varying mannerisms, and ensuring that Rainer’s voice didn’t blur into the voices of those character’s she was depicting. However, the pace of the piece was demanding and her performance, nonetheless, impressive.

Throughout the play Rainer’s deliveries are interrupted by snippets of Rainer’s counselling sessions with her ‘shit NHS counsellor’. These scenes successfully explored mental health within a backdrop of underfunded mental health services in the UK. The script was rich in thematic content, with other topics including love, class, sexual assault, grief and (of course) COVID-19. I found the content of the play entirely relatable, and its exploration of these themes nuanced, all the while being laugh out loud funny. The brilliance of the script made sense when I discovered that its writer, Max Wilkinson, has previously won the Stage to Screen Award.

Throughout the play Sorcha frequently ran laps around the audience, while on her one of many ‘trips’ around London. The scripts successful ability to depict the areas of London meant that you felt you were on that journey with her, visualising each setting as she whizzed past. The ‘pinging’ of the delivery app, jolting her into action again and again, while the slightly less warm auditorium aided the realism. The ever changing settings were depicted usually by a small change in lighting, or music, with very little need for props. Despite the sparse stage, the writing and performance convinced you of the scenes.

All in all, I think the writing, performance, lighting and sound came together to provide a unique and gripping show. I’d love to see more of Max’s writing, and I think Sorcha’s energy and versatility make her an exciting performer to watch. I think if you get a chance, absolutely catch this piece before it finishes!

The Outstanding Limited Series Emmy nominations are unified in shining a light on female and racial oppression but can they incite real change?

This article contains spoilers.

I was surprised when I saw that all of the Outstanding Limited Series nominations focus on either female or racial oppression, particularly as previous years Emmy’s have seen no such unification in theme. Although previous nominations such as Big Little Lies and When They See Us also discussed female and racial oppression, no other year has seen all the nominations include it. However, understanding art as a reflection of its time, it makes sense. The nominations suggest that each year of the last decade has become increasingly demanding of change, verified by the global #metoo and #blacklivesmatter movements. The arts are amping up their support of social dilemmas, the question is whether or not they can help bring change, or whether they are simply holding up a mirror.

The first, Mrs America, is an undisguised presentation of the history of female oppression, as it follows the women at the forefront of the 1970s America Equal Rights Amendment, or the ERA. Throughout the show we see how the women pushing the bill ‘suffer for the cause’, as they allow themselves to be felt up by my men in positions of authority, in order to get their backing. The most interesting feature of the plot, if it were not true, is its Republican anti-heorine, Phyllis Schlafly, whose STOP-ERA party grouped housewives against the bill. Phyllis argues the bill would disadvantage housewives, cause women to be drafted into the military and eliminate the tendency for mothers to obtain custody over their children in divorce cases. Ultimately indoctrinated by patriarchy, we see her repeatedly elbowed out of conversation with men in the workplace, who ask her to ‘take notes’ rather than share insights, as well as fight her husband on her right to study law, all without ever recognising the ERA plight. The show contrasts Schlafly’s private life with the private lives of the main ERA proponents, presenting her marriage as one of tradition and constraint while theirs, new wave and free. The most interesting character trajectory however comes from Alice Macray, Phyllis’ right hand woman. Alice aids Phyllis throughout, but is forced to reflect on their incessant opposition to the ERA, when she is unexpectedly enlightened at the liberal National Women’s Conference and learns of a fellow party members suffering in the home. The show’s documentary footage from the 1970s rallies and marches, reminds us that this isn’t just a drama, but history and the more recent footage reminds us that men and women are still not equal by law in America. It highlights the experience of women in 1970s America and their necessity of being attractive and compliant in order to gain recognition. But more importantly it celebrates, with a star-studded cast and beady eyed script, the women at the forefront of the movement, the sisterhood they formed and the leadership they showed. It is a great proof of the female battle and an unsurprising nomination for the Outstanding Limited Series award.

Unbelievable, by contrast, is primarily a detective series but, much like this year’s I May Destroy You, it spends an extraordinarily long time with the victims of sexual assault. It presents real female victims, not just the young, reckless and attractive ones we are told about in the media but also old, overweight and from mixed ethnicities. It presents two female detectives who work solidly on the case, as though their own safety depended on it, as they discuss the injustices in their own police departments and acknowledge the failings of male detectives in rape cases. The success of this series is due to its ability to properly reflect the complexities and realites of sexual assault, crime and policing. It is an american police drama devoid of ego or showmanship but with reflection and honesty. It faces up to the fact that there are criminals within American law enforcement and asks why, if as many women in the police department had hit their child, as men who had hit their wife, they would all be out of their jobs, while men remain. Sexual assault is shown not just as a crime, but as a life-altering and often life-destroying event particularly through its focus on its female protagonist, Marie Adler, who after having repeatedly fallen victim to the state, only has that used against her when reporting the crime. Unbelievable is not only the victim’s story, but a call for revision in law enforcement and social systems; it is about the oppressed and the oppressor equally.

The most focused conversation about feminism out of all the nominations, is Unorthodox as it spotlights women in Hasidic Orthodox Jewish communities, through its protagonist Esty. The series has been widely recognised as groundbreaking, but mostly due to the fact that it is primarily spoken in Yiddish and is the first of its kind to represent the Hasidic Orthodox Jewish community more broadly, even having its own ‘the making of’ documentary. Inspired by Deborah Feldman’s auto-biography The Scandalous Rejection of My Hasidic Roots, the plot shows the constraints placed on women inside strict Jewish communities. Constant scrutiny from her new husband’s family, which extends to her sexual and reproductive capabilities, leads Esty to seek a new life in Berlin. There she begins to experience the freedoms of life outside of the community, as she becomes inspired to pursue her dreams in music, which she was previously forbidden to practice. She also reunites with her mother who had been excommunicated when Esty was young, for refusing to conform. Through a shared enemy, the pair begin to rebuild their relationship as her mother seeks to prevent her from returning. If feminism is defined as a woman’s right to choose, Unorthodox shows Hasidic women are forced to exchange their communities, for autonomy. A revealing, focused and moving story of female isolation in religious communites.

Little Fires Everywhere bridges the gap in the nominations in that while it is undoubtedly feminist, in its focus on motherhood, it is primarily about race. The show explores the dynamic between a white mother, Elena Richardson, and black mother, Mia Warren, who become acquainted when Elena takes pity on Mia and her daughter Pearl and offers for them to live rent free in her apartment. Despite all her good intentions, Elena exhibits white saviourism, as she becomes dissatisfied when her charity isn’t met with enthusiasm. She offers Mia a job in her house on the assumption that she needs help and prides herself on fighting Mia’s daughter Pearl’s battles for her, but begrudges Mia when she is met with hostility. The show explores how racial biases do not stop at the parent -even in a progressing society -but is handed down through generations, as Lexie, Elena’s daughter, uses Pearl as a scapegoat when filing her abortion and gentrifies Pearl’s hardships in order to get into Harvard. The gnawing anxiety Mia experiences when she sees a police car, juxtaposed with Elena’s ability to rely on the police department for favours, is just one of the ways the show reflects on how whiteness contributes to an easier life. This is stated no more clearly however, than through a third mother, Bebe Chow, who after coming to America from China to give her daughter a better life, resulted in abandoning her at a fire-station due to poverty and post partum depression. Regretting her decision, Bebe searches for May- Ling but it is Mia, a colleague of Bebe, who informs her that May-Ling has since been adopted by a white American couple who are friends of Elena. Bebe, forced to fight for custody of her child in court, has her biological claim is pitched up against the benefits of finance and stability which the white couple offer. The jury assess what constitutes a good mother, in a world where white always wins. Little Fires Everywhere is an aptly timed discussion of racial bias and white privilege, during the biggest push for racial equality of the 21st Century, following the death of George Floyd.

Most surprising of all the nominees focus on oppression, is Watchmen, whose comic book series and 2009 film only ever partially addressed race and focused around white superheroes. Lindelof, the show’s creator, reimagines the world of Watchmen by placing it firmly within a discourse of racial oppression and white supremacy. Beginning with the depiction of the 1921 Tulsa Massacre, a significant incident of racial terrorism in American history whereby the ‘Black Wall Street’ was burned down by white supremacists, aided by the National Guard, the series makes its anchor in history a racism fuelled atrocity. Catapulted forward into the present, we are introduced to the current world through the eyes of an African American protagonist Angela Abar, whose alter ego Sister Night, is a caped heroine working for the police. This America, led by liberal president Redford, appears an improvement on our currently reality, as his agendas include reparations for black people, a Victims of Racial Violence Act and the Greenwood Center for Cultural Heritage, reconnecting black people with their ancestors. In this America, police officers mask themselves for their own protection and primarily work to fight masked white supremacists, known as the 7th Kavalry, descendants of the KKK. However, the noosing of Chief Judd, a white police officer, by a black man who claims to Abar’s grandfather, throws this narrative. Forced to ingest ‘nostalgia pills’ to fill the gaps in her past and discover the truth about her grandfather, Abar sees her grandfathers life following from the Tulsa Race Riots. Through her grandfather, we learn that apparent racial progress is just a veil to cover persisting white supremacy, as he discovers a secret white supremacist organisation known as Cyclops. Disillusioned with the justice system, he unexpectedly learns that if he is to take out white supremacists or real criminals, he would have to do that in a mask, rather than wearing a badge. Hence the beginning of the ‘hooded justice’. However, it becomes clear that Cyclops never disappeared but still includes leading members of the police and government who are working to try and inhabit Doctor Manhattan, to regain full control. While the world Lindelof uses is undoubtedly more fantastic than our own, he uses it to make powerful statements about the current state of America. By taking a real historical event such as the destruciton in Vietnam war and making it the work of super power Dr Manhatten, Lindelof likens white supremacy to the work of an evil super power. The greatest acheivement of the series, is that it takes the only superhero of colour from the original comic, the traditionally blue Doctor Manhattan and gives him a reason to be a black man. Watchmenreverses the trend of the ‘black villain’ by giving us not one, but three black heroes: Sister Night, Doctor Manhattan and Will Reeves against white supremacy. It even addresses the importance of children having a superhero who looks like them, as Angela’s childhood obsession with Sister Night grows because she ‘looks like her’. Therefore in creating three black heroes the show provides, just as Sister Night did for Angela, something for black children to admire.

It is clear that what this year’s best limited series’ nominations present is a world in much need of a revolution. Mrs America wakes us up to the fact that men and women still aren’t equal by law in America. Unbelievable acknowledges that most rape victims weren’t drunk or wearing too little and that male police officers could also be abusers, while Unorthodox highlights the isolation and restriction placed on women in Orthodox religious communities. Little Fires Everywhere discusses the acumulative effect of white privilege while Watchmen demonises white supremacy and celebrates blackness. Most unifying in the nominations is their sense of restlessness and as a viewer, this has to have an a cumulative effect. Much like an addict admitting they have a problem, the existence of these series are a proof of progress, in at least recognising the problem exists. I think most likely to isight change is Watchmen, in its use of shock factor as well as Unbelievable, as it provides a naturalistic, honest and informative depiction of sexual assault. Both of these series succeed in being informative and I think in the very least, will encourage reflection if not revision.

Little Fires Everywhere – A perfectly timed discussion on race.

Photograph:The Radio Times

Little Fires Everywhere focuses on two mothers: Elena Richardson, a white middle class writer and all round do gooder and Mia Warren, a black artist who moves from state to state in her car with her daughter, Pearl. The two meet when Elena Richardson takes pity on Warren and allows her and Pearl to rent her apartment for free. Elena prides herself on the action and sees it as an opportunity to do good in the world, soon sparking up a friendship with Pearl, who in turn becomes close friends with her own children. The story becomes, in the most part, a discussion about race and class, but also about motherhood. Ironically released during the biggest discussion of race the world has ever seen, following from George Floyd’s murder, it is a loud and glaring discussion of white privilege in America, from dolls only being made in white, to Elena’s trust in the police department versus Mia’s fear. However, the biggest and most thoroughgoing discussion of race and motherhood comes in with a third mother, Bebe Chow, who came to America from China to give her daughter a better life. The show sees her fight for custody of Mai Ling, in a world where white always wins.

What I loved…

The acting in the series incredible; Kerry Washington undeniably owns the show with her moving portrayal of Mia Warren. However, I found the shows young cast especially impressive, specifically Tiffany Boone, who plays the younger Mia Warren in the flash back episodes. Despite having a smaller part, her ability to mimic Kerry Washington’s mannerisms and facial expressions made for an uncanny likeness. She is one to watch.

The conversations the season has is undoubtedly its most interesting feature. It is the most mainstream discussion of racial bias and how it filtrates into the minds into even the most seemingly anti-racist people, I have ever seen. This comes through most clearly in the Richardson family, in particular through Elena’s character, who despite all her good intentions, still holds biases that she herself is blind to.
Alongside and tangled up in its conversation about racism is its discussion of motherhood, in particular mother daughter relationships, which forms a relatable and moving dialogue throughout the show. The season parallels Elena’s relationship with her youngest daughter Izzy (the one she didn’t plan for) with Mia’s relationship with Pearl. Both girls experience problems with their own mother and in turn seek solace in each others. Izzy, who can’t cope with her mothers need for control enjoys the company of free spirit Mia, while Pearl, sick of having no sense security or grounding, can see the value in a tightly organised home. The fact that both girls find qualities in each others mother’s more agreeable than their own shows that the concept of a ‘good mother’ is subjective, based more on preference than truth. This dialogue is played out with Bebe’s fight to keep her daughter, when the court gets to decide what constitutes a good mother. Through these three women the show discusses the inadequacy, survival and criticism of mothers.

Little Fires Everywhere is a powerful, political, feminist watch.

9/10

Normal People @ BBC Three

Photograph: Enda Bowe/BBC/Element Pictures/Hulu

Adapted from Sally Rooney’s novel, I was anxious that the screen adaptation could not do justice to her honest and intimate style of writing. If you have read Sally Rooney’s novel you will know that this book is built solely on the bond between the two main characters; it’s unusual lack of plot has brought recognition in its ability to portray the complexities of modern relationships. It follows the ebbs and flows of their relationship with all its natural bumps containing no real climax. Naturally, then, as internal perspectives are an area which screen is so often lacking, I thought how could it possibly do it justice? Rooney’s novel would be just another click bait opportunity, capitalising on the popularity of the book but translating poorly on screen. A tamer Fifty Shades of Grey.

However, this piece is genius, regardless of whether you are watching afresh or as a fan of the book. It maintains all the intensity of the novel, mostly through silence, lighting and cinematography. I found myself holding my breath along with the characters in the scenes, an element rarely preserved when adapting from novels. In fact, the series makes apparent the void in teen/young adult screen, by contrasting the over-dramatised and belittled teen emotions often written by a detached fifty year old man behind a desk. The script unlike the far fetched land of Skins or Misfits, is placed in mundane ordinary experiences. It is a dramatisation of isolation, manifested in class structures, miscommunication and loss. Communication forms a heavy theme in the script as two elite communicators in the written form, struggle to put across their most basic desires verbally. When Jessa Crispin at The Guardian wrote ‘I was bored watching these very typical representations of college students doing very normal things ‘, I think she was forgetting the title of the book. This isn’t supposed to be a happening programme, it is revolutionary because it is an exact mirror of the young experience now but perhaps she has forgotten what it is like to be 20.

9/10

The Dirty Thirty by Degenerate Fox

06.03.2020

Attending Degenerate Fox’s International women’s day piece at the Rosebranch Theatre, a member of the cast on the ticket booth chewing gum and shouting us in, set the tone for this less than usual production. Thirty, two minute pieces, the order of which is decided by the audience who are reading the plays off a ‘menu’. The pieces begin with the cast shouting ‘go’ and close with ‘curtain’. Asking the sound man if he is ready, shouting that they need certain props between pieces, there is no fourth wall in this chaotic piece. In this international women’s day special they focussed on a range of mini pieces, performed by it’s LGBTQ international cast. My favourite pieces were ones which focussed on trans issues such as the piece: ‘What we think of TERF’s’ where a TERF is represented by a glass of water which they treat as if it is infected before one of the cast member reluctantly edged towards the glass and chucked it through the door. Similarly, when discussing how it feels to be labelled something you are not, their cast member Jack held up a sign saying ‘woman’ and awkwardly tried to put it down a few times before reluctantly holding it and faking a smile. The piece was insightful and informative and the wide scope of the content reflected the diverse cast, covering broad topics such as sexual assault in Latin America, to listing inspirational women we might not have heard of. I’d love to see how their usual show compares to the factual nature of this piece. Admittedly, if you’re looking for high quality theatre, this isn’t it – the talent of the cast varies from what appears obviously trained actors to seemingly happy volunteers- but what it does provide is a fun show brimming with inclusivity. The cast could work on their conviction on delivery if they did wish to elevate this to a serious piece of theatre, however, I imagine as this was a special it may have been put together very quickly. I can see this company at festivals or as a fun, more boozy night out. If you are member of the LGBTQ community this company are ones to watch!

DUMPED @ Camdens People’s Theatre

Beyonce made Lemonade – Emily Howarth made DUMPED.

A brutally honest, funny and witty piece.

Describing itself as a ‘one woman musical comedy shit storm’ DUMPED is not your conventional piece of theatre. The mish-mash of genres become a clever structural embodiment of the mild hysteria recognisable in a break up – disjointed and fluctuating you’re never quite sure if you should be laughing or crying. This piece definitely doesn’t know what it is, as it see-saws from theatre to stand-up, from an intimate gig to karaoke session. Whether it was the creator’s intention or not the piece feels utterly confused but that’s the brilliance of it, because who the hell isn’t confused when they are dumped right?

It’s genuinely interesting from a musical standpoint.
As the entire piece is mostly built around an analysis of music’s break-up genre- with the occasional interruption from voice memos- this is definitely a piece that would interest someone from a musical standpoint. Probably the most significant musical aspect in this piece, unsurprisingly is Emily’s own singing. Firstly may I add Emily can really SANG and her singing offers poignancy amidst her otherwise wacky routine. However, strangely at points it does turn into a bit of a music history lesson and I found her in depth chats about Fleetwood Mac and Adele genuinely interesting and entirely relevant.

It’s raw.
DUMPED certainly doesn’t shy away from honesty or ugliness. It lays all the cards on the table or in this case, voice memos baring fully the soul of a broken heart. But we are living in the age of honesty right? and stuff like this is important. It serves as a great reflection on heartbreak, grief and femininity even if it makes you want to go home and cry about all the break-up emotions you thought you’d suppressed.

If I had to moan..

This is probably a matter of personal opinion but I’m not a huge fan of comedians laughing at themselves as it can come off amateurish. Similarly with the dance pieces if Emily could do them with conviction without bashing herself after or even during, they’d be even funnier. Embrace the awkward bones they’re the best bits.

If you love to laugh… and cry this is one to watch.

My rating 6.5/10