FESTIVAL THEATRE | Reviews
LADYKILLER Sinking into the mind of a murderer ●●●●●
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Madeline Gould’s self-consciously nasty script dives into the mind of a woman who not only kills, but enjoys it. Part rationalisation of a murder (with the dead body still fresh), part exploration of the murderous mentality, Hannah McClean’s energetic performance almost makes her vicious chambermaid charming and sympathetic, despite being covered in blood and more than happy to own her impulses.
Gould’s interests are not merely in the psychology of the
murderer: the most bracing moments see her protagonist mock the patriarchal stereotypes of femininity that might allow her to escape punishment. Occasionally slipping into a lecture on the history of the serial killer, the script returns to McClean’s unnamed character’s motivations and reflects on how the construction of femininity permits outrageous behaviour, as long as it is suitably framed.
Fragments of other justifications emerge, only to be subsumed beneath the murderer’s egotism and pleasure in the kill: a revolutionary impulse for change becomes another excuse for violence, and Madeleine Moore’s direction keeps the pace rapid and the focus on a character who repels and attracts in equal measure. The notion of feminist equality is presented, but in its darker aspects: a roll-call of types of serial killer wryly notes that the literature can only understand women who kill ‘for gain’, and the protagonist celebrates their personal obsession as resistance against the everyday abuse that inspired #metoo. Without ever becoming a condemnation, it pokes at the optimism of feminist beliefs in equality and the innate compassion of women in a bracing and difficult to resolve monologue of fierce intensity. (Gareth K Vile) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, until 27 Aug (not 13 & 14), 1pm, £9–£11 (£8–£10).
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SIRENS A new way of reading the past ●●●●●
ANGRY ALAN Reply to the curse of male victim culture ●●●●● BABY FACE Exploring the sexualisation of youth ●●●●●
Zoo Co’s inclusivity is a valuable corrective to the Fringe’s often empty boasts. Sirens announces its ‘relaxed’ performance, encouraging the audience not to obey the expected rules of engagement, and to feel free to move about, leave, even talk. With both surtitles and a musical number including sign- language carrying the story of three mythical women attempting to correct misogynistic lies told about them, the company challenges the lip-service paid to accessibility.
The story is told in a playful, straight-forward
manner: the sirens of Greek myth are transplanted to the present, discovering that they are the victims of negative poetry. The adventure is a rudimentary excuse for the performers to riff on themes of patriarchal oppression and gender identity. The enthusiasm to cover a range of social justice issues at times makes their politics perfunctory, and the dramaturgy aims for clarity rather than depth; grappling with a fundamental patriarchal myth of the femme fatale, their response is cheeky rather than comprehensive.Yet their enthusiasm and sincerity push the narrative along to its positive conclusions. (Gareth K Vile) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, until 27 Aug (not 13, 20), 3.35pm, £10–£11 (£9–£10).
90 THE LIST FESTIVAL 8–15 Aug 2018
A reasonable response to the men’s rights movement, Angry Alan follows the radicalisation of Roger (Donald Sage Mackay), who finds the answer to his alienation in the online rants of the titular activist. Roger, having lost his well-paid job, his marriage and self-respect, promptly rips the rest of his life to pieces. The ugliness of men’s rights activism, unfortunately, does not make for a serious drama: Roger’s parroting of the party line is risible and his tragedy – never realising his own privilege – is engineered by the abrupt arrival of a son in crisis. MacKay does his best to make Roger amiable, but Penelope Skinner’s script is too willing to present the stupidity of the activists without answering its contradictions or digging beneath the simple equation that perceived male failure leads to acceptance of a frankly incoherent anti-feminism. The drama fails to rise above Roger’s naivety:
the tragic finale is forced, partially because Roger is telling the story and cannot see beyond his own concerns, and the serious investigation of a toxic yet potent movement is reduced to a series of shocked, mocking laughs by the audience. A vital matter is reduced to an isolated and personal tale of foolishness. (Gareth K Vile) ■ Underbelly, Cowgate, until 26 Aug (not 13), 3.20pm, £13–£14 (£12–£13).
Baby Face, a solo performance by Katy Dye, explores the infantilisation of adult women in a society that equates attractiveness with youth. Using her self-described ‘physical childlike attributes’ (a lean dancer’s body), a plastic highchair and some baby toiletries, she explores the uncomfortable reality of a world where young girls are sexualised.
Dye brings an intense and unrelenting physicality to the performance: dancing over, under and around the highchair, throwing it in the air like a baby and spinning it dizzyingly around her head. She speeds through characters: a doting mother, a provocative teenager, a wailing toddler as she shows how both sexualisation and infantilisation can be forced on someone, but also invited. As she asks a woman to stroke her hair and a man if he fancies her, Dye’s complete control of the room never wavers.
The script is compact, with funny flashes, but some of it is lost in the pulsing backing track. By the end, Dye is down to her underwear and moves seamlessly and unnervingly between sexualised writhing and a baby wiggling, moaning then gurgling. Baby Face is an often uncomfortable show that throws a mix of messages into the air. (Rowena McIntosh) ■ Summerhall, until 26 Aug (not 13, 20), 1.30pm, £9 (£7).