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The
Edinburgh Fringe
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Fringe 2004 Reviews (56)Sub At first glance, Sub seems like a straightforward piece of sexual fantasy fiction. The heroine, played by Melissa O'Brien, relates to the audience (in a chatty, at first roundabout, then startlingly straightforward manner) how she came to acknowledge her sexuality as a submissive sexual being. While O'Brien's performance is good enough to keep audience member's attention for the duration of the show, and watching her discuss her sexual proclivities never becomes tedious, what audience members (none of whom actually walked out; despite its inflammatory publicity material Sub is actually quite tame) may find most disturbing is not the way in which O'Brien's character pursues her sexual fantasies, but the fact that as a male writer, Mainwaring allows his creation to discuss such things as rape fantasies and feminine submission to men as being practically mainstream. Too often, also, the language he chooses feels unrealistic and not at all conversational, without being poetic enough to create an alternative vernacular for his audience. If Mainwaring seeks to provoke audience members into thinking about new ways in which men and women relate in bed, and the changes brought into these relationships by current times, perhaps the obvious choice of the female submissive/male dominant partnership should have been avoided. Of course some women may prefer being dominated by their partner, but despite her protestations it seems that the main character in Sub may owe her "deviant" lifestyle to issues in her life that she would be better off confronting with therapy, rather than by submitting to the will of male partners. Women who submit to men are nothing new; if he wanted to explore the complexities of the BDSM scene why did Mainwaring not choose to investigate the personality and reasoning of a submissive male character, or (shock, horror!) a dominant female one? Clearly that would make Sub a very different play, but at the same time it would provide a far more challenging perspective on the world of non-conventional sexualities. Rachel Lynn Brody Dylan in America Dylan in America draws on Thomas’s own words in his letters home while on tour in the states. Pieced together these magnificent letters relate the story of the writing of Under Milk Wood as his life falls apart in drunkeness and appalling loneliness. Peter Reid creates a puzzled, disorientated image of the poet at the end of his tether, plodding in a dreary circle (‘of hell’) round the stage. This was a solid performance but I felt that it needed a more conscious stage presence: his delivery rested on explanation which works very well when Dylan is in quirky surreal mode (the ‘explanations’ are plain loopy!) but he tended to speak into the distance and there was little connection with the audience. However Reid was not well the day I saw him so I might be being unfair. Flat lighting, repeated weary movement around the furniture – the emphasis was on words rather than drama and I think the direction could have paid more attention to the rhythms of performance. Dylan’s text however is wonderfully expressive and Reid can speak it beautifully: that is more than enough to hold the attention. Jeni Williams Cooking with Elvis Lee Hall’s comedy deals with serious subjects: a dysfunctional family and its frustrated desires. Elvis-obsessed Dad (Robert Vernon) is a paralysed vegetable in a wheelchair, the lonely anorexic Mam (Emily Evans) is desperate for sex to prove her life isn’t over at 38 and pulling (much) younger men, the plump fourteen year old daughter, Gilly (Zarha Amandi) pours her need for love and attention into cooking elaborate meals that the mother won’t, and the father can’t, eat. Stew (Dan Green), a young supermarket cakeman who appears to be a shy and rather inane innocent is apparently bullied into moving into the house as the mother’s lover. But in theatre, of course, things are never what they seem. The family unravels and audience sympathy shifts from one figure to another. The father is revealed as a bully, the mother needs love, the daughter wants her mother, and the cakeman… well I won’t spoil it. But there is a happy ending! Every part was acted with great fluency and vigor and the sudden moments when the rigid father dressed as Elvis suddenly leapt up, gyrated to a classic number, then snapped back into his wheelchair paralysis, were hilarious. Well paced, nice balance of movement; neat set and lighting. Quippy and witty dialogue delivered with great aplomb. Directed by Dan Green. Jeni Williams |
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