A brutally honest yet fun insight into a young actress’s experience.
Racing Tortoise Tempo Slow is a one-woman semi-autobiographical show about a young actress’ struggles to get into theatre school, until she is helped by George, a giant tortoise. Yes, Benita as a giant tortoise is as charming and fun as you’d hope for. For a one-woman (and arguably, one-tortoise) show there is an incredibly high amount of energy — Benita C. Lambrechts’s physical performance is fun to watch and really works in the intimate performance space at The Golden Goose Theatre.
The start of the hour-and-a-half-long show is an homage to 2001: A Space Odyssey and introduces us to the show’s central conceit — our talking tortoise — and it’s an absolute delight to the audience. It’s incredible how Benita’s almost frantic energy gets us into the spirit of the show. I really enjoyed watching Benita as the tortoise, if anything, this narrative device might be underused: Why wouldn’t you want to use a giant tortoise as much as humanly (tortoise-ly?) possible.
Benita’s physical acting is truly sublime. There are several scenes where her dancing is captivating to the audience, and in these the sound and lighting design really stands out. The staging is very simple, only featuring a few pieces of trash, underlining the environmentalism theme of the play. Yet these are used in wildly diverse ways, whether we’re seeing a jellyfish or building a time machine.
My biggest reservation with the show was the tone… The tone tended to wildly vary from tongue-in-cheek to sincere. The show even mentions this, varying from the “tragedy of not getting into theatre school” to environmentalism and one of the trickiest issues of our time: “Why keep trying when failure is inevitable?”. I’m afraid to say the ending is a bit underwhelming; it seems that the fun tortoise-y moments fall more towards the start of the show. As we get later in the show the energy may have waned a bit, this could be easily lifted with a few more additions of the tortoise if Benita chooses to relook at the script.
Overall this show is a fun insight into Benita’s life from playing on the seaside of Norway to where we’ve found ourselves now.
An engaging storyteller but not enough to bring the show fully to life.
Homobesity is the autobiographical one-man show telling stories and musings from the life of a gay man called Connor. The show touches on topics such as, as the name suggests, being gay and being obese as well as discovering physical and psychological about yourself that you do not learn growing up in a religious community in Ireland.
While I will refer to this as a show, it really felt far more like a lecture or a ted talk than a show. It is just Connor on stage with a stool, telling stories about his life and utilising a faux interview style at one point and some poetry to get his life story and musings on his life across to the audience. The Lion and Unicorn is a very intimate theatre, and this suited this show well as Connor comes across as very likeable and engaging, so you quickly feel like you’re just listening to a friend tell stories. In a larger space I think this show would struggle to get that connection that it needs.
My primary criticism of this show comes down to its lack of thematic structure and I felt that it was really missing a stronger throughline throughout. Some sections are solely about being overweight, others solely about being gay, and others about poor sexual education, but I felt that there were opportunities missed to really explore these ideas in parallel and how they relate to each other. As a larger gay man myself, I was expecting this show to be an exploration of the specific issues that LGBT men have to face when it comes to fatphobia and body image issues, but this is never shown. There are comments on fatphobia and comments on homophobia, but I felt that this was a missed opportunity to explore when they both intersect. Instead, they were treated quite separately, and it would have helped the show seem more cohesive if these different themes were brought together more.
My criticism is perhaps a symptom of this show being very real, in that it is telling true stories and thoughts from Connor himself, and so narrative changes would be difficult to achieve without moving away from this truth. I do however think that the decision to tell the stories chronologically (the very first story being the exception) was perhaps a mistake, and a more thematic grouping of them could have been better.
Connor as a performer seemed to be slightly nervous on stage, however this nervousness did go away once he got more into some of the stories, and he seemed to enjoy his time in the spotlight. The stories are the strongest sections as he is a very compelling story teller and there are sufficient laugh out loud moments to keep you engaged. Some of the non-story sections though I was less fond of and Connor seemed less comfortable performing. In particular the “Fuck you thin people” section felt particularly out of tune with the rest of the show. This section expressed a lot of anger that was not clearly present throughout the other sections, and so it stood out as an anomaly and I was unsure of what the desired effect of this section was.
At 60 minutes this show is probably the correct length, as much longer I think there would have had to have been more variety to prevent the show being a bit monotonous. My big struggle with this show is that I am not sure who I would recommend it to. Individual stories I would probably send my friends videos of in 5–10-minute chunks, but as a 60-minute performance I am not sure there is enough of interest for me to recommend to people. Connor does have interesting, funny, and heart-breaking stories to tell, but this just may not be the best format for these stories to be heard.
Jasmine Naziha Jones’ semi-autobiographical debut play Baghdaddy, opens at the Royal Court Theatre from 18 November – 17 December.
Baghdaddy takes place in early 90s Britain during the Gulf War. Based on Jasmine’s childhood memories and her family’s experience of the 35-country military campaign in response to Saddam Hussain’s invasion of Kuwait, Baghdaddy explores a seminal moment in modern history and a war that devastated a country, setting in motion a chain of events that have dominated the newscycle for most of our recent lifetimes, often through a Western lens. The play questions what types of violence against what types of bodies the West is desensitised to, and asks us to examine our complicity.
What is Baghdaddy about?
Baghdaddy explores my childhood memories of the Gulf War and the occupation of Iraq and reconciles them with an adult understanding of what my dad endured watching the horror unfold from the safety of our home in the UK. It’s told through the eyes of Darlee, who ages between 8 and 22 in the play, she is assisted on her journey by three spirits who force her to make sense of the memories.
How personal is this play?
It is an incredibly personal piece so it feels like a vulnerable thing to do, I’m really putting my heart on the line. There is truth in every scene, all of it is made from my memories, or stories that I’ve been told by my dad and other family members. I have used some dramatic license to make it more theatrical and entertaining, but truth is at the heart of it.
How do you feel about your family seeing the play?
They are all really proud and I think they all recognise it as an important piece of art. My sister, who has a very similar second generational point of view to me, was very moved by the text and felt it was a story that urgently needed to be told.
For my Dad, I think reading the play did open some old wounds. It will be a difficult watch for some people, but I’ve worked very hard to do no harm and try to be as truthful and nuanced as possible. I gave my Dad the text to read first, so there’ll be no surprises
What made you want to write this story?
The play began its life as a response to A History of Water in the Middle East by Sabrina Mahfouz, which was also on at the Royal Court. I was so galvanised by what I’d seen, I just had to write something. As the saying goes: “if you can see it you can be it”, and I just felt angry. I went home and wrote the first 10 pages of Baghdaddy. I didn’t know I needed to write it until I’d seen her play.
How do you think the play will resonate with other second generation immigrants?
When I was writing this play I realised I’d never had any place to grieve over about what happened in Iraq, what my Dad went through and what happened to my family. I had nowhere to process these feelings, so I found writing the play very cathartic. I think it’s very common for second generation immigrants to secretly process the grief of our elders; it’s confusing and lonely because on the one hand we have the privilege of safety but on the other the shockwaves of trauma resonate through our lives. I really hope other second generation immigrants will come and watch the play and also, maybe, use it to find a way to look back and see creativity as a way to take back control.
Did you write the play with yourself in mind as an actor?
No not at all! It would have been a very different play if I had written with myself in mind. It wasn’t until later on, after having a frank conversation with my sister, that I decided to be in it. We spoke about how I needed to protect these words, and how important getting an Iraqi woman to say them was. But initially I was writing with a sense of detachment – I had to for my own sanity, the topic was so enormous I didn’t need the added pressure of framing myself as an actor within it.
Now you’re in rehearsals, is it easy to stop thinking as a writer and throw yourself into the acting?
I’ve been really lucky because I’ve had quite a long time to sit with the play and a lot of support and feedback. I was many drafts in by the time we got to rehearsals. My radar as a writer has been on in the rehearsal room, but mainly for the rhythm or things and where cuts may need to be made.
What has working with the director, Milli been like?
I’ve been so lucky with Milli, we’ve been on the same page from the start. She is incredibly collaborative. There hasn’t been a bump on the road at all and I totally trust her. Even though we aren’t from the same cultural background, there are similarities and I think that is really important because there is something shared in our bones. There is a level of experience and understanding between us which is really great.
What should people expect from Baghdaddy?
It is ambitious theatrically, this is not a conventional piece of theatre at all. It plays with form, it’s not linear and it is quite destabilizing. It’s funny, then serious, and then heart breaking. It is a real rollercoaster. I think there is a relationship with the audience, a certain level of self awareness and an energy that you might not get in other plays.
Why should people see the play?
I want audiences to be enlightened to a very private behind closed doors perspective on something we are still feeling the effects of in this country today, but we never hear about. I hope they’ll be let in on the far reaching impact of war and colonialism on every modern British life. It aims to be entertaining too though! The content is hard and sad, but the line between sorrow and humour is thin. I hope the play will stay with them out into the wider world. There is something in this play for everyone. I want as many people as possible to see it.
