Two Plays by Caryl Churchill - Melville Theatre Company (15 February 2025)

A preamble. In two parts.

Part one:

The first play finishes. I scurry off to the lobby to type some notes into my phone. I'm by myself and madly processing what I've just seen. I wander back in and talk briefly with an adjudicator whose opinions I respect. I retake my seat and the lady next to me asks what I thought. I offer some tentative views to which her and her friend thank me for the explanation. I'm sorry, what? Explanation? I'm still processing and feel nowhere close to explaining anything! I reveal I'm reviewing the show. On leaving for the night the lady good-naturedly wishes me, “good luck!” This makes me laugh.

Part two:

I'm a huge fan of discussing theatre in the moment so I grab a drink and stay. For me it's an integral part of the overall experience. Cast members, two of which are also the director of the show they're not acting in, come over. We have a wide-ranging discussion about the plays; about theme and meaning and the playwright's intent. The writing is deliberately obtuse and, as a writer, I'm grappling to understand the intended effect. I'm also experiencing these plays cold; the cast have worked on the text for weeks. Talking about it helps me order my thoughts and clarify my understanding. We end up getting kicked out of the theatre as it closes. Such conversations are a delight.

All this is to say, bear with me as I pick my way through these reviews. I apologise if I'm not as concise as I would like. These are difficult plays, however, there are joys to be found in their staging and value in thinking about them.

ESCAPED ALONE - 55 minute one act play 

A neighbour joins three friends having a cuppa in a suburban backyard. They discuss all kinds of things; some trivial, some fraught, some surprising, some puzzling. Meanwhile the neighbour narrates a dystopian future that is shocking and deliberately provocative.

Director Lucy Eyre has assembled an excellent cast - Suzannah Churchman, Caroline McDonnell, Natalie Burbage, and Susan Lynch. It's a real pleasure watching the four of them inhabit such diverse roles - Churchman as the emotionally fragile friend with a feline phobia that explodes into a striking, if somewhat overlong, monologue that treads the line between bizarre and heartbreaking. Burbage, whose character would rather be invisible than face the inequities of modern life. McDonnell as the brusque friend who cares not for others' feelings before delivering a stark monologue about the murder of her husband with unexpected ramifications.

Then there's Lynch as the neighbour who intrudes and is our narrator of sorts as she delivers brutal descriptions of a dystopian hellscape supported by the projection of images of a planet in distress - whether by climate change, natural disasters, manmade follies, political stupidity, and social inequality.

The lighting design by Lars Jensen resonates with me, having recently been on a film shoot where there were transitions back and forth between real and imagined scenes. The techniques used here are similar albeit on a bigger stage. The world of the backyard is bright and lush with greenery; the dystopian visions dark and disturbing. Sound design by Myles Wright accentuates the discomfort. Video projections (visual design by Dylan Randall) hint at how the calamitous disaster came to be. The language is, again, deliberately perverse in its choice of imagery. 

I wait. 

For an epiphany that links the bleakest of visions with the seemingly innocuous reality of these women's lives. I recall that Caryl Churchill wrote Top Girls and my response to that play eventually coming into sharp focus with a glorious revelation.

I wait. 

No epiphany comes. 

Until I am assaulted with TERRIBLE RAGE.

Those two words. Over and over. Lynch absolutely laid emotionally bare and vulnerable. It's an extraordinary moment. 

This isn't subtext. This is straight up text as theme. 

It's an angry play. It roils and spits venom. I feel the writer's fury.  

The juxtaposition is absolutely intended. We sit and talk about idle fears and concerns while the planet burns. The dialogue is almost malicious in how obtuse it is. It's a writer demanding you pay attention and, I expect, get angry yourself. 

Does it work? In the moment, no. I think Churchill has done herself a disservice by being too obtuse, too elusive. You can sense the audience grappling like I was with any sense of meaning. If you take the time to sit down and think about it and talk about it then yes, it does work on that basis. But it's a hard watch and will likely prove divisive to audiences. However, it is a showcase for fine performances and impressive staging, particularly as the script format itself, I believe, is equally impenetrable.   

I brace myself after the interval...

WHAT IF IF ONLY - 20 minute one act play 

I'm greeted with an open box structure onstage and an apple featured in a glass case. There's a kitchen setting where Lucy Eyre has moved from directing duties to playing a woman who is mired in grief. She tells the tale of a man who tried to paint an apple, then not paint an apple, eventually concluding that perhaps he should have tried to paint an orange instead. 

Again, an intriguing opening gambit as Eyre's "Someone" wishes her partner were still alive; taken by tragic circumstances out of her control. It's a naturalistic performance. A relatable one. A moving and honest one. 

Until hyper theatricality comes crashing into her structured world in the form of Jarrod Buttery's "Future/s", Clare Talbot's "Present", and Tanisha Mavunduse's "Child Future". Again, the juxtaposition is clearly intended, deliberately pushed, and stylised. Director Natalie Burbage gives licence to the actors playing these fantastical characters to go big; not only in performance but costume and lighting (Lars Jensen) as well.

Buttery goes full tilt vaudevillian shtick; Talbot is almost maniacally insistent; while Mavunduse's brief appearance speaks to youthful mischief. The writing is circular - the same arguments and position are stated and restated as if these phantasms are beseeching "Someone" through sheer force of will and repetition. 

In the end, I suspect I've been conned by the verbal equivalent of sleight of hand. The apple story is the most telling. Yes, in our grief we may summon a flurry of thoughts - "What if I..." or "If only I..." but the apple will never be an orange even if you forget what it looks like as cherished memories fade over time. The apparitions are more a fever dream of a woman in pain and sorrow.

Ultimately, on reflection, I appreciate the decision to tackle both these plays. There's no getting around it though - the writing is deliberately obtuse; the juxtaposition of styles and tone purposefully jarring. This isn't theatre for enjoyment as such. This is theatre for discussion and debate. 

I would recommend that if you go and see these plays which are well acted and well staged, have those discussions and debates afterwards; either in the lobby, in the carpark, the next day, whenever. You may find you are well rewarded for the effort. 

Two Plays by Caryl Churchill is on at the Main Hall, Melville Civic Centre until 1 March.

Photos by Curtain Call Creatives

She Kills Monsters - Darlington Theatre Players (9 February 2025)

1999. A time of George Clooney on ER. Twin Peaks. Quantum Leap. I'm Just A Girl style 90s pop. And internet speeds of 56 kb/s. Before social media apps, the smartphone, influencers, and 24/7 connectivity.

How did people who were a little different - dare I say it, nerds - express themselves in such a nascent internet era?

Well, one way was to immerse yourself in a world of fantasy and magic via games such as Dungeons & Dragons which had been around since the 70s. I played a similar game in high school back in the early [redacted]. We were too contrarian for D&D. Ah, the misplaced arrogance of youth.

You could tell a lot about someone from the character they chose to inhabit. It was a serious representation of an inner world of imagination and creativity where you came to genuinely care about your fantasy self, your companions, and the quest you were on.

This is where I probably shouldn't reveal I used to play a particularly nasty Vampire called Lord Sisyphus in Runequest. Yep. Take from that what you will.

Ahem. Moving on...

She Kills Monsters is a love letter to the nerd in all of us and a celebration of the game that liberated people from the average and mundane, at least in their imaginations during game sessions.

It's also about cherishing loved ones for who they really are even when they're no longer around.

Yes, the superstructure may encompass nerddom but there are much deeper themes at work here. The context of the world of the quest is critical.

Let's back up. I'm being a bad DM. I need to set the scene better…

Thoroughly average Agnes (Candice Preston) loses her parents and younger sister Tilly (Sophie Boyland) in a car crash. She finds a journal of Tilly’s D&D quest and seeks help in trying to understand a sister she never really knew through the game world she created. Enter Chuck (Luca Daniel) who becomes her Dungeon Master and guides Agnes through this strange new world while boyfriend Myles (Andre Victor) is more concerned about moving in together.

Agnes fights monsters real and imagined as she navigates Tilly's carefully constructed realm to discover aspects of her sister she never expected. Crucially, Tilly’s sexuality and someone she loved who may not have felt the same way.

There are real threshold guardians other than the ones encountered in the game here. For Tilly, being a closeted gay student in small town Athens, Ohio in 1999 was not an easy thing.

D&D is an escape and a tool of empowerment. Tilly becomes Tillius the level 20 Paladin who fights dragons and leads a company of hardy warriors - Lilith Morningstar (Verity Lux), Kaliope Darkwater (Mary Carter), and Orcus (Sean Wcislo) in a land where everyone is gay.

The show is incredibly funny. First time director Connie Wetherilt leans into the 90s of it all and the joy of game play with a fast paced and, at times, goofy execution which is fun to watch. You ain't ever seen a game map introduced like this one, for example!

Production values are high with an impressive set from Gary Wetherilt who also does monster design and construction. There are a range of creatures that are simply a sight to behold. Or flee. Or stand and fight.

House Wetherilt is also represented by Yvette's signature array of wigs and suitably striking make-up while costume designer Merri Ford adds colourful flourishes to these fantastical characters contrasted by geek chic in the real world.

There is a clever sound design (Guy Jackson) in both music cues and effects that summon peak 90s memories for those of us who recall such a time. With atmospheric lighting design by Shelly Miller as we plunge into the depths of Newlandia in search of a lost soul and five headed dragon. All of this is a nice mixture of parody and affection.

As are the performances.

Candice Preston anchors the craziness that swirls all around her as a stoic and determined Agnes. She brings emotional heft to genuinely dramatic moments and relatable disbelief as the outsider. It's an excellent turn.

She's well matched with Sophie Boyland who gets to play a duality and does so in style - the vulnerable Tilly who hesitantly explores her sexuality in life; and the courageous Tillius who fights Tilly's demons in the game.

Andre Victor brings a quiet naturalism to Miles and is used as a foil for a strand of comedy dealing in wordplay and double entendre as the real and imagined clash.

Helen Kerr plays high school counsellor Vera with typical poise, not quite crossing the line into the outright bizarre... until she portrays a series of fever dream entities in the game world with more than a little razzle dazzle.

Okay, there's a LOT of craziness and the following embrace their roles with total commitment:

Luca Daniel goes BIG as the pre-eminent nerd, Chuck, who lays down the lore and injects more than a little male adolescent fantasy to proceedings.

Verity Lux vamps it up as the spawn of Satan himself as a demon who enjoys feasting on entrails; while also playing the sweet natured and shy girl of Tilly's dreams in the real world.

Mary Carter threatens to steal every scene she's in as a Dark Elf with a speech pattern that is hilarious. Think an emotionless Spock but at a third. of. the. verbal... speed.

Sean Wcislo plays a demon overlord as a slacker who'd make The Dude blush. Instead of bowling he records 90s television shows on a set with *gasp* a built-in VCR player! Clap when appropriate ;-)

Kailem Mollard brings Penn Jillette style theatrics to the Narrator, only shorter; while Adam 'AJ' Giltrow's fate as Steve is one that I'm still quite emotional over... and over... and over. Steve, when will you learn?!

Which brings us to the tandem of Sophie David and Ebony Uetake as Evil Gabbi and Evil Tina, two succubi who just might be the most dangerous creatures in this made up world. They play their roles well but there's a clear tonal shift here with an inherent nastiness that is a little uncomfortable. But then real monsters say and do things that cut the more sensitive of us to the bone.

This is an entertaining show with surprising emotional depth underneath all the fantastical elements. It looks and sounds great with a frenetic energy that captures a certain niche culture with respect, affection, and loving mockery. I had a fun time with it. She Kills Monsters is on at the Marloo Theatre in Greenmount until 22 February.

Photos by Sean Breadsell

Stand and Deliver - Thanks Tina (6 February 2025)

The unexpected gem. 

It's always a treat when a show surprises you. I had no expectations going into Stand and Deliver, not really knowing much other than it was framed around a high school debating scenario. What a delight then to find a play with a lot on its mind and an anger about the state of the world simmering under everything. 

Two things in particular stand out. The Acknowledgement of Country delivered onstage by two of the performers is followed by an acknowledgement of the victims of genocide in Palestine, Sudan, Congo, and Yemen. This immediately gets my attention that something a little different to the usual Fringe fare is definitely in the offing.

The second is a monologue delivered by Lauren Westphal-Groves (Rachael) that compares and contrasts the safety of debating etiquette in a classroom with protests outside in the real world. It's impassioned, insightful, and a wonderful example of theme writ large in good writing and execution. This definitely gets my attention. 

The play is political in ways that thrill me as a writer of politically tinged fare. From the debate topic the six characters prepare for - should the voting age be lowered to 16 - to that friction between polite debate and lively protest; the politics of friendship as six students navigate envy, infatuation, self-entitlement, status, anxiety, identity, and the so-called sisterhood; and sexual politics with an unabashed queer perspective. 

The set-up is simple. Star debater Rachael (Westphal-Groves) is late which unsettles the others, especially Bryn (Rebecca Attwood) who seems to idolise her disclosing perhaps more than intended. Overly ambitious Abigail (Tasha Fraser) seizes the moment to take the spotlight, more than miffed she isn't already the star of the team. Abigail turns to friend Madeline (Sophie Quin) who only seems content to tag along at her behest. Olivia (Bec Moore) quietly makes her points in opposition to Abigail while Sonnie (Adah Hill) uses debating to help with anxiety. These interactions shift and move in fascinating ways as assumptions are upturned and revelations uncover stress fractures amongst the group. 

Rachel eventually surfaces after having been at a protest rally. She delivers that wonderful monologue and the fact that perhaps she isn't the star they all thought she was. That honour lies elsewhere. They rally to confront their fiercest rival - Mercedes College! Yes, there is a lot of sly humour here about the perceived education hierarchy and their place in it; several prestigious institutions being namechecked along the way. 

The acting is an interesting mix of the performative versus quiet understatement as larger than life characters confront more circumspect counterparts. It all works in a strange alchemy that clearly delineates each character and their mindset. A highlight is when they all dance raucously to relieve the stress of impending ruin. 

The play ends with another strong monologue as Bec Moore's Olivia leaves but not before she commentates on her hopes for them all and their friendship; how they were electric together. Then we're out as the debate is about to commence...

...and I want more!

It feels like a perfect act break heading into an intermission after 50 minutes of wry, observational comedy; excellent character work; and those political undertones. For mine, there is absolutely the potential to extend this out. 

Other things of note - we hear the rules of debating on a loop as we take our seats. The simple set design including a white board with typical debating terms on it; the school costumes with subtle changes for every character and the differing attitude/posture each performer brings. Oh, and I loved the tag line on the poster - Friendship is debatable. The lighting design is a little haphazard in trying to single out a performer in certain moments but it's a minor distraction as I lock into this pretty quickly. 

I walked out of the theatre enthused and impressed about these young artists and writer/director Arthur Brown using their voices to speak out on topics they are passionate about. Long may it continue!

Stand and Deliver is on at the Hayman Theatre as part of Fringe World until 9 February.

Sarahtonin - Sarah Bowers (5 February 2025)

Sarahtonin. 

Odd word. Not one I recognise. Sounds vaguely scientific. I hope it's not - gasp - some newfangled self-help term! 

I better look it up in the imaginary dictionary I just created in my head.

Sarahtonin: 

An infectious enthusiasm designed to cause an abundance of laughter and smiling in large groups of strangers. Often found in airport terminals, row 53 of international bound jet airliners, and the Red Room of the Leederville Hotel. Typically involves singing, witty anecdotes, and a fondness for risk-taking and awe. 

Row 53 seems pretty specific I think to myself…

Which is where we begin in talking about this 50 minute cabaret by Sarah Bowers, accompanied by Koert van der Laan on guitar. Recently graduated from WAAPA I know Sarah is going to crush the vocals. What elevates this show is the unbridled joy Sarah brings in performing. There's an ease and confidence here that is, yes, infectious as she plays around with lyrics and the delivery of well-known standards. Plus a couple of original songs for good measure.

All in service of telling her truth. In well crafted stories that are funny, illuminating, and free of any self-censorship. This is Sarah's authentic self. You can't help but laugh and smile as she's figuratively jumping out of her skin with happiness.

Sarah tells us she's the sort of person who makes friends with anyone in any circumstance. I utterly believe her. Excerpts from ten years of her friendship diary reinforce the point.

Stories that I won't spoil here that are testament to living life to the fullest with a surprising amount of Shakespeare references and more than a dash of Rodgers & Hammerstein. A lovely and extended tribute to Sarah's grandmother who is in the audience. And a 6’2” Italian who everyone sees in their imagination as he's brought vividly to life in such charming fashion.

The show fittingly begins and ends with Carole King's Beautiful and takes us on a tour through such songs as My Funny Valentine, My Favourite Things, and I Can Hear The Bells; all with a unique spin put on them to hilarious effect. Koert acts as the straight man, at times as bemused as we are about the spontaneous antics on display. 

In the end everyone is cheering and laughing with a full dose of Sarahtonin. Turns out maybe it was a self-help show after all… and we all feel better for the fact.

*Sarahtonin is upstairs in the Red Room at the Leederville Hotel for one more night - Thursday 6 February. 

*Also can be found within a hundred metre radius of Sarah at all times.

Blue Angel - Presented by Laura Goodlet (4 February 2025)

This is the second show I've seen in the space of a few days where immortal beings concern themselves with the fate of humankind. They struggle to control our destructive nature and seem particularly susceptible to that most human of emotions… love. It's a well worn trope and taken on that basis Blue Angel is moderately successful. 

Where it excels though is when you put that narrative device aside and realise this is a workplace dramedy between two friends… who just happen to be angels. This plays to the clear chemistry between the two performers, Lauren Thomas (Beth) and Georgia Goff (Elle), who, at times, seem to be genuinely enjoying moments as friends more so as performers. 

The intimate black box space of the KAOS Room at the Blue Room Theatre works to the advantage of this exploration of a quirky friendship which covers millennia. We begin circa 4000 BC where Elle is an aspiring angel who idolises Beth, ostensibly her boss. The rules and bureaucracy of Angel Headquarters are quickly established in a typical workplace induction. I must confess, with the continual projection of some key points on the wall, I was feeling pretty indoctrinated by it all myself! 

The main rule all angels must remember is “Be near, don't interfere” as they go about their tasks interacting with humans in four major ways. You just know there's going to be some interference along the way. Enter decidedly mortal Henry (Glenn Wallis) to cause one of our angels to feel blue in a whole different way. By now, Beth and Elle have moved from work colleagues to besties as they witness everything from Julius Caesar's demise to the fall of the Berlin Wall with a bit of plague thrown in along the way. 

Elle is the more pessimistic of the two, worn down by our propensity for violence and cruelty whereas Beth remains stoically optimistic. They dance, they sing karaoke - who knew Tears for Fears were so big in the afterlife - and there's a touch of Michael Schur's wondrous The Good Place about it all. 

There is a clear delineation between the two - Goff gives Elle a larger than life enthusiasm in the early going that is endearing in its intensity. This also sets up the trajectory of Elle's arc as a certain moroseness sets in after literally thousands of years. Yes, workplace disappointments can certainly get you down. Thomas brings an ethereal beauty to Beth and is far more composed by comparison. Until she becomes animated by a visit to Athens and a little rule breaking. Their playful frolics together are a delight with uninhibited enthusiasm which is only enhanced by a few prop mishaps. Wallis adds the charm in a lovely cameo.

Writer & director Laura Goodlet lets the play breathe in these moments of simple joy between two friends. Being so close to the performers you feel the authenticity of their connection. Appropriate iconography is sprinkled throughout from a wry explanation of the angel wings to images projected on one wall which shift with the times. Lighting design by Matthew Erren adds to the otherworldly nature of this most unusual of workplaces while Movement Director Kurtis Brown adds class when needed and a certain goofiness that illustrates the essential nature of the friendship.

I don't know if I gained a greater understanding of key events in human history. What I did learn though is that angels are just like the rest of us - after a little workplace satisfaction and a friend you can let your hair down with to dance your troubles away and sing karaoke badly. I can think of worse things to while away the millennia!

Blue Angel is on at the Blue Room as part of Summer Nights 2025 until 8 February.

FootyBoy - Wallaby Blue Company (2 February 2025)

Ah, that great Australian pastime, supported by governments, the media, big business and sees millions of people flocking to the theatr-- um, the football every year. Yes, I love my theatre AND my footy. Sure, I was feeling somewhat marginalised as an Eagles fan watching Dockers highlights on the big screen before the show started. But I can forgive such wayward transgressions... in a day or two.

Okay, down to business and this is a fusion of two of my loves so chances are I was pretty much in the bag for this straight away. There's a raucous crowd in attendance with lots of familiar faces from a certain training academy I hear is pretty good. 

The show sets me up with a beautiful misdirection early on, poking fun at the whole "sport is war" trope which I loathe (no, no it isn't). There's affection and cheekiness here before a serious thematic strand emerges pretty early on - this is about fathers and sons dressed up in a sports metaphor which also explores the mental as well as physical side of competitive sport. My Field of Dreams, Hoosiers, and any number of sports movies-loving brain kicks in and I'm feeling it.

The story trajectory is well trodden as most sports tales are. It's the characters who are the differentiating point and some rather spectacular choreography that is frenetic and precise with a footy in hand and not one single drop. Which I have to say, given how furious the movement becomes at times, is worth BOG honours and three Brownlow votes. No, I'm not going to explain that to the people in the audience who alarmingly claimed to "know nothing about football" as we were filing out. 

That's the thing about sport though. You don't need to know because football may not be war but it IS great theatre. They just have much bigger venues then your standard theatre. Oh, and all that sponsorship and media coverage and... sigh... I digress. 

The story in short: star player for the Dolphins James "FootyBoy" Chappell (Michael Kavanagh) suffers a knock that takes him down to his own sunken place where his father, football legend Bill Chappell (Brad Francis) awaits. The son suffers by comparison to live up to the legend who hectors him to be better and claims ownership of his achievements. There are two arcs here - will James become his own man and will Bill see the error in his ways? As Fremantle doyen Chris Connolly might have once said, it's all about the journey. 

Meanwhile team captain Hands (Alice Schlipalius) - in this world the AFL and AFLW have seemingly merged into a super league - motivates the other players, Butter (Summer Rule) and Cox (Jai Craig-Fraser) with positive reinforcement, self-affirmations, and the use of crystals. She herself deals with a back injury which leads to... you can pretty much guess where that's heading but it doesn't matter because everything is done with great flair and humour. 

Schlipalius milks the sincerity in the "straight man role"; Craig-Fraser brings a goofy physicality and charm; with Rule showcasing exceptional comic timing, letting beats breathe in a very funny performance. Kavanagh gets the emotive arc which he handles well while Francis lends a little mongrel to Bill before a startling transformation. I don't know which cornfields his ghost has been hanging out in but it's waaaaaay funkier than Shoeless Joe's!

My only quibble is that there seemed to be a beat missing. Bill's arc is clear but the catalyst for the change is not there for mine. It felt more out of story convenience than character. Having said that, the subsequent scene is affecting but it's one thing I'd look at in the writing. What brings him back to his son? Otherwise the ending is every footy players' fantasy - to [redacted] which leaves everyone with a feel good sensation at final bows. 

I enjoyed this a lot. It's funny, fast and furious; shows clear affection for the sport and the types of characters who inhabit that world. There's a serious message under the humour about how our mental health can be adversely affected by expectations and negative reinforcement; how we can better manage that; and the power of forgiveness.

FootyBoy is directed by Art Walsh, David Blue, and Natasha Pearson with a relentless pace and energy. Walsh and Blue are also co-writers. The show is on at the State Theatre Centre as part of Fringe World until 8 February. 

What To Expect When You're No Longer Expecting - Roe Rowe Productions (1 February 2025)

I don't know how to review this show. At least not as a theatre critic. I don't want to talk about lighting or set design. Or critique performance and execution. 

I want to talk about how it made me feel. 

I want to talk about how it made a roomful of people FEEL.

If one of the prime motivations of theatre is to be authentic and truthful in the moment then this is a stunning example of exactly that. 

Everything else is secondary. 

I laughed. 

I cried. 

I could feel the honesty and compassion radiating from the stage. 

Roe Rowe and her husband Chris told the story of their pregnancy and loss with a generosity unlike anything I had experienced before.  

Anticipation, excitement, dread, devastation, and grief followed by bewilderment at the lack of support after such unbearable heartbreak. Everyone was nice, everyone was professional, but how does that acknowledge let alone begin to heal the loss Roe had experienced?

This is the conversation Roe and Chris wanted to start to address that gap. 

A vital conversation. 

A conversation that could prove to be a healing factor for so many people. A conversation that banishes any thought of shame. Or that couples are alone in facing this. A conversation that helps family and friends support their loved ones. 

There is great humour here. 

And raw emotion. 

And glimpses of anger.

But never any shame. 

It is Roe being utterly fearless and vulnerable and truthful. 

It is Chris by her side, on this journey together, every step of the way.

Roe sings. Chris plays guitar and piano. 

Original songs add to the emotional truth - not only in the lyrics but how they are delivered. 

The wistfulness of "Who Will You Be" as Roe wonders what sort of person her baby will grow up to be. The frustration and hurt of "How Are You? Not Okay." The anguish of "Goodbye" which is heartfelt in such a profound way.

There are tears and sniffles all around me. 

I'm one of the people holding back tears and failing. 

Tears for Roe and Chris. 

Tears for a friend and her husband. 

Tears because I am part of something that feels extraordinary and meaningful.

The conversation crucially includes Roe forcefully detailing what you should expect when you're no longer expecting - no more platitudes but tangible support mechanisms that help heal body and mind. 

The production honours this by creating a supportive environment with a breakout area at the back; a memorial wall for the names of lost babies; and messaging that details where *assistance can be sourced. Even the encouragement to step out if you feel overwhelmed.

The show may end but the conversation doesn't stop. So many women talk to Roe afterwards about their lived experience. Chris and director Vanessa Jensen are also on hand to discuss the production and issues it has raised. 

I thank them. For their generosity. For their honesty. And for an act of kindness I'm grateful for. 

Each person will react differently based on their lived experience and circumstances. Whether that be a form of catharsis; the ability to share their story; to begin to heal; or to walk out feeling lighter knowing they're not alone. For family and friends it gives enormous insight into what loved ones might be dealing with.

It's a wonderful show. 

An important one.

There may only be two performances in this run - grab a ticket for Sunday 2 February at 3pm - but somehow I suspect the show will have a long life far after Fringe World has finished. This is theatre in its most compelling form - raw, honest, vital, and necessary. 

*For support after suffering pregnancy loss the production suggests the services offered by Pink Elephants and Red Nose Grief and Loss.