In the publicity materials for You Heard Me, it maintains that it is a loud show about quiet power. Luca Rutherford’s autobiographical piece, retelling the events of a fateful Tuesday when she was attacked by a strange man while out for a jog, is as raw as it is unabashed. Walking onto a darkened stage, surrounded by standing lights, Rutherford simply states that she does not apologise for being there before beginning the very physically and at times mentally exhausting performance of the horrifying day and the psychological aftermath.
It’s at times quite hectic, as Luca runs around the stage, waving around and occasionally beating up a huge pink watersafe bag, at times tidying up some of the strewn confetti blasted onstage and running up and down a set of stairs. It’s an energetic performance, partly to echo the jog she was on, as well as the frantic running in the aftermath of the criminal attack depicted.
The issue with the performance is that all of the individual aspects don’t feel cohesive as a whole. For example, it’s never even vaguely clear why Rutherford puts on and takes off a yellow dress at several points, or alternatively what the significance of the shiny chrome helium balloon is. What’s more is that the play and its publicity materials actively are arguing that the piece is about power, and connecting to it, but the actual performance itself doesn’t communicate that. Instead, it is a show perpetually caught in a loop of fury, which feels rather unfocused, muddled at times, and ultimately doesn’t easily extend the triumphant feeling it tries to evoke to the audience.
It’s always hard to be less than enthusiastic at someone's artistic expression of their lived experience, especially in regards to a traumatic event, but it would be unfair and dishonest to say that You Heard Me is a piece that works fully on the levels it’s aiming for. Rutherford clearly has a lot to say and a huge amount of artistic impetus behind her design. Furthermore, rather than try to stymie such passion, I would encourage it but with more of a laser focus.
As it stands, You Heard Me is a raging howl of emotion, a dervish of frenetic action, but one that is, in its current form, too scattershot in concept and execution to raise itself above the parapets of mediocrity.