She’s mopping floors by day, smashing deadlines by night… Eat The Rich (but maybe not me mates x) is a bold, funny and fiercely sharp debut from Jade Franks, former Cambridge Footlights President turned undercover cleaner. When a working-class Scouser bags a spot at Cambridge, she hides her job scrubbing toilets from the very people she studies with. Inspired by Jade’s own experience, this gutsy solo show takes on class, privilege and the myth of meritocracy with wit, warmth and a side-eye to the Oxbridge elite.
The show’s been described as “Hannah Montana if she were a Scouser at Cambridge” — where did that playful comparison come from, and why do you think it speaks to the double life your character is living?
A lot of Eat The Rich is rooted in my real life and things that did happen. I did go to Cambridge University, and I did work as a cleaner when I was there. I did date posh people and have posh friends. But of course, some parts are fictionalised – all the characters other than my sister, are a mash-up of people I have met. Partly because I don’t wanna get sued (lots of these people have lawyers in their family circles), and partly because it served the story better.
It came from the idea that contrast is what drives the comedy and the tension in the show. The constant balancing act between who she’s expected to be and who she really is. It’s a show about trying to keep those two worlds from crashing into each other, but also about how messy and brilliant it is when they inevitably do.
There are a fair few pop culture references in the show too, so I think it also speaks to the tone of the play!
You originally missed out on drama school because of financial barriers. What would you say to someone in the same boat today?
I’d say two things – firstly there is more help out there now (still not enough!), but look into organisations like the incredible Open Door who help working class young people get into drama school.
And secondly, there are other ways into the industry other than drama school. They are also elite institutions, and you may not have the best time anyway. There are loads of young people’s programmes – YEP at The Liverpool Everyman, and Stratford East Young Company at TRSE to name a couple.
Directed by Tatenda Shamiso and backed by JFR Productions, the team behind For Black Boys… — how did that creative collaboration shape the tone and message of the show?
When we worked on For Black Boys Who Have Considered Suicide When The Hue Get Too Heavy there was such a clear understanding of audience and why that story was on stage. We loved working with each other, and it set a solid foundation to work together again on Eat The Rich. I think the tone and messages are very different but having Tatenda and JFR Production’s backing gave me confidence that this story mattered. They understand what it means to platform underrepresented voices without diluting them. Their support meant I didn’t have to tone anything down, if anything, they encouraged me to go further with it the politics, the tension, the joy.
The play doesn’t just talk about class; it also pokes fun at the performative ‘wokeness’ in elite spaces. What’s your take on the state of class discourse in theatre right now?
We’re talking about class more, but still not doing enough about it. There are lots of panels and pledges, but the structural stuff is still all set up to serve the same people it always has. Working- class stories are being programmed but often they’re gritty, trauma-heavy, or palatable enough for middle-class audiences to clap and feel good about themselves.
I also think that there are a lot of well meaning, good people working in theatre but don’t have the language or know how to invite working class audiences in. I spoke on a panel recently about Audience Development at the UK Theatre Conference and a question was something like ‘If theatre was a party, who is left out/not invited’ and I think theatres are good at inviting and intending to invite people, but they don’t have the resource or skills to actually speak with communities and invite them in a way that feels genuine, not tick boxy.
What’s the one thing you hope a working-class young person in your audience takes away from this show?
I’m gonna be so real with you and say that I don’t expect there to be many working-class young people seeing the show while it’s at the Edinburgh Fringe. To tackle this in a small way, we have set up a bursary for 2 participants of Open Door to come up and see it. So I can speak to what I hope they take away:
I hope they leave knowing that the weird in-between feeling, the imposter syndrome, the anger, the pride, the graft is all real. You don’t have to erase where you’re from to succeed, and you don’t have to become a caricature of it either.
You can be clever and chaotic, political and hot, soft and sharp all at once. There’s no right way to be from where you’re from, and you don’t owe anyone a performance of it. Even though that’s exactly what I’ll be doing. Everyday. For a month. At. Pleasance Courtyard. At 2:15. See you there!! xox