Stomach
By Amelia Reynolds and Saraid Cameron
Directed by Jessica Joy Wood
Designed by Ruby Reihana-Wilson
Choreography by Cole Jenkins
At The Basement Studio, Greys Ave, CBD, Auckland
From 11 March 2014 to 15 March, 2014 at 7pm
Published at http://www.theatreview.org.nz
‘Stomach’ was inspired, we are told ‘by conversations about breaking up with friends when the relationships become unhealthy.’
The result is an excellent chamber work that features the women who conceived, devised and wrote it, Amelia Reynolds and Saraid Cameron, and both women initiated further discussion and more engagement by means of their advance publicity. Reynolds is quoted as saying ‘It’s important to us that we embrace women on stage and open up a conversation about how common it is for us to use food as an emotional sledge-hammer against ourselves and each other.’ Cameron adds ‘we are trying to begin to take the stigma away from talking about eating disorders and make the conversation accessible to everyone. It’s also very much about how valuable and fabulous female friendships are, to the point where they can be just as heart-breaking, if not more so, than our romantic relationships.’
Sound heavy?
It’s not.
Jessica Joy Wood ~ director
In fact it’s one of the best produced, best acted, best designed, funniest and most moving shows of 2014 and that says a lot when you consider this stellar bunch includes the return season of ‘Black Faggot’, two excellent Shakespeare’s (‘Passionate Acts’ and ‘Pericles, Prince of Tyre’), Sam Brooks’ ‘Queen’, Agaram Productions magnificent ‘Mumbai Monologues ’, the exhilarating ‘Girl in Tan Boots’ and, perhaps the best of them all, ‘Teen Faggots Come to Life’. These are, of course, only the show’s I’ve had the pleasure of reviewing and there are heaps more of, I am sure, at least equal quality.
There’s the perennial debate about reviews, what they mean, who they’re for, are they too harsh/soft/incompetent/ill-informed and who should –or shouldn’t – be doing them that’s been raging in Aotearoa New Zealand since at least the ‘60’s when, legend has it, the late Proc Thompson went to critic Harold Pointer’s home in the early hours of the morning and took a poke at him for something he’d said about a Thompson production in ‘The Christchurch Press’. The debate has reared its head again recently regarding both film and live theatre and, as always, it’s a pretty healthy conversation even if, occasionally, it can get a tad nasty. I take the stance that my reviews represent my informed (or otherwise) opinion and, as such, are independent of outside influence but not, of course, of comment and I’m really happy that Theatreview reviews have an interactive aspect and I welcome personal engagement should you so wish.
Everything about ‘Stomach’ is stunning.
Ruby Reihana-Wilson’s flotsam and jetsam set replicates the flat I’ve always wanted to have but could never quite manage. There are books, clothes, cushions and every manner of womanly detritus all beautifully lit via hanging shades and literally hundreds of glittery fairy lights courtesy of La Lumiere, an all-woman lighting company, which is fully in keeping with the evening as a whole. The set is fantastic in the small space and the actors never seem cramped or ill at ease but work the room with aplomb.
The script is innovative, inventive and seriously funny. It travels backwards from the demise of a beautiful friendship to its beginning in, of all places, a library and is peppered with illustrative and moving vignettes covering everything from fathers – love them and hate them – to obsessing over a boyfriend, binge-eating, throwing up, Lisa ‘Left Eye’ Lopes and everything TLC, along with making youtube clips featuring their favourite home grown personas. Amy’s alter ego is ‘Montreal’, described as a disco era/1990s diva throwback, and Sara’s is Kadun, a hip-hopping hood-rat. When the women perform one of their songs it’s an absolute show-stopper because these girls can really dance. The full house spontaneously erupts.
Amelia Reynolds ~ Amy
Yes, this is a play with a social message, in this case it’s eating disorders and disordered eating but at no point is it preachy or depressing, quite the opposite. It’s a refreshing approach as it makes its point in ways that are easily accessible without diminishing their importance and each audience member is given a simple show programme which contains the contact details for the eating Disorders Association of New Zealand and a contact name. There’s also an acknowledgement that this is an experiential play and not designed for information sharing and so it is. It’s the actor’s story and they note that everyone is different and the message is, without question, one of hope.
As I’ve already said but it bears repeating, these actors – Amelia Reynolds and Saraid Cameron – are brilliant. I said the same about the women in ‘Girl in Tan Boots’ but these two are even more impressive given the nature of their material, the fact that they wrote and produced it themselves and the lack of any acknowledgement of sponsors or funding support. It saddens me greatly that actors of this quality doing work that would grace any stage in the world should need to be entirely reliant on audiences to make a crust or even pay their bills especially with a five night season in the smallest venue in the city. It’s not as though these fine young artists are beginners. They have invested considerably in their careers, already have significant CV’s and experience, and their work not only deserves the widest of audiences, but the artists deserve to earn a living from it too.
Saraid Cameron – Sara
Having got that out of my system I have to say it’s a joy to see both performance spaces at The Basement featuring all female casts and, in the case of ‘Stomach’, all female crew as well and each playing to ecstatic full houses.
‘Stomach’ doesn’t pull its punches and both Reynolds and Cameron are equal to all the challenges they’ve laid down for themselves. There are moments of extreme angst and they are as completely credible as the moments of joy, shame, anger, rage and bliss that populate the 60 minute journey. There’s the most naturalistic of action playing as images of Lisa Left Eye Lopes are blue-tacked to the wall, as Reynolds measures Cameron with a tape and they chatter their way through a text that opens up the relationship between them like a cavernous void and I find myself feeling like the framed portrait of an aging aunt voyeuristically witnessing the most intimate of moments and the delivery of some of the most poignant lines I have ever heard delivered on a stage. This is a script driven by the most modern of rhythms, verbal silhouettes that act like keys to the rich emotional texture of the play and that enable this most human of stories to play out without the slightest fear of embarrassment or anguish. There’s the motif of Katie Holmes that sustains itself throughout and results in the funniest scene in the play, there’s the road trip to Te Puke with ‘Eddie’ who deserves to have one of the truffles that feature deposited with vigour anywhere it might fit – see the show, you’ll get the joke – and there’s Cameron’s father and his new partner, plain Mary, and her children. There’s cigarette binging, 13 at once, and flash chocolates, 17 in a row, girl crushes and every passing second of the play leads us inexorably toward the most extraordinary respect and liking for these two everyday characters, young people we might meet anywhere or at any time and for whom being in love seems the most natural state of all.
Playing the narrative backwards is ingenious because it means we end at the beginning with the quirkiest of meetings, a serendipitous connection that makes absolute sense of it all, and at the happiest and the most unguarded of times.
This is, after all, a paean to love.
I’ve already advised all my friends to go and experience this wonderful work and it would be churlish of me not to offer you the same opportunity. Tickets are $15 and $20 which is a mere fraction of what they’re worth.
Go, and you’ll see a wonderful production (Jessica Joy Wood) and two fantastic talents in Saraid Cameron and Amelia Reynolds, women just doing it for themselves.
dykiegirl 