★★★★☆
Director Clara Davis’ new production of Anna Jordan’s Freak is an energetic and touching study of female sexuality. We follow the cast of two, Leah (Emily Albery) and Georgie (Lily Erskine), as they attempt to build their own identities and deconstruct them through new sexual encounters. But when does sex make you human, give you power? And when does it make you less than that: inhuman, subservient?
It is forgivable to come to the show with dark forebodings of awkwardly ‘gritty’ discourse on ‘daring’ topics. However, Freak is not gritty, but rather messy in its tone – more naturally real than self-consciously realistic – and there’s something commendable about a show that isn’t trying to shock its audience with its subjects, choosing instead to examine them closely and honestly. Everything, including masturbation, the watching of pornography, pubic hair, wanting to be objectified, fetishes, and loss of virginity.
The play is structured by interspersing monologues from the characters. Our first glimpses of them – Leah’s angst-ridden dancing, Georgie retelling her hyper-sexualised dreams – establish their personalities immediately. The two were able to sustain a high level of energy despite acting alone for the most part, working with a great dynamic.
Both characters are instantly relatable – in particular, Leah’s more light-hearted travails in the cringe-making world of adolescent sexuality prompted all-too-knowing laughter from the audience. These moments of humour were well-timed and well-executed. With Georgie’s storyline taking a dark and melancholy twist, Leah’s was able to juxtapose in a way that gave the audience relief at more emotionally taxing moments. The resulting pathos left the audience with a sense of female companionship, and raised questions about sexual authority and the importance of intimacy.
The show’s concerns were greatly helped by dance and the often-ironic use of music. Meghan Trainor’s ‘Dear Future Husband’ and Jessie J’s ‘Bang Bang’ deftly juxtapose an image of female sexuality in popular culture – supine, man-dependent, eager to please – with the grubby reality of womanhood. Both Leah and Georgie dance to music at intervals, using the opportunity to explore their bodies and build their sexual confidence. The mirror-effect of both girls simultaneously dancing or undressing or making themselves up was created by the set; a double bed to share and two distinct styles of décor on each side gave the impression of two sets split-screened. Having both girls on stage, acting or silent, gave a real sense of companionship throughout.
The only criticisms that could be noted were that there were a few very good but ill-fitting metaphors that were perhaps a little too high-flown for the characters (however, even here it ought to be noted that Albery and Erskine pulled them off smoothly enough to be convincing). There was also a moment of broken-action quoting of Beyoncé that slightly pushed the performance into something more trivial and quirk-for-quirk’s-sake. But that’s it. My only two complaints. Which is not bad going for a two hour show.
Freak is a refreshing play, approaching its themes in an authentically brutal tone. Its cast is captivating, its aesthetic solid and supportive, its plot dynamic and heart-breaking; a very well executed and satisfyingly well-meaning production
