Underbelly, George Square
Aug 16-27 (16:20 )
Respondeat Superior
Approaching Underbelly at George Square, I asked a flyerer for the show if they could pitch it to me in 30 seconds “Umm, it’s Australian absurdist comedy about insomnia, aaaaand, well I can’t say any more or I’d spoil it”. An hour later, as I was leaving the performance, I thought that they were wise not to try to put together a more detailed description, still feeling discombobulated by the absorbing and discomfiting experience of spending 60 minutes in the mind of a sleepless psycho-drama that would Edgar Allan Poe proud.
As we enter the dark, enclosed, performance space Ange is already trying to get to sleep. Pigtailed in a nightdress, she rolls against the walls at the back of the stage, clutching her pillow tightly, and before too long she begins using the audience as literal ‘props’, their shoulders, laps, and heads all failing to provide an adequately sedative perch to rest her head on and drift away. Which, to be fair, is just as well as over the next hour the sleep deprived performer takes the audience on a captivating fever dream of insomniac consciousness blending pop culture references, multiple re-imaginings of ‘The Exorcist’, and perfectly performed clowning to recreate the existential horror of being trapped by her over-active brain at 2am.
Audience participation continues throughout, with the crowd captivated enough by the absurd vignettes, featuring satanic worms dressed in vegan ‘pleather’, to give themselves to relaxation exercises and pot-luck dips into plastic carrier bags containing the darker contents of Ange’s subconscious. Though on stage this is a solo performance, excellent use of voice clips representing ‘the brain’, and those dark and surreal thoughts which swirl in your head in the wee small hours, ends up turning this into a two-hander. The constant teasing and taunting of repressed thoughts bubbling out every time Ange is on the verge of blissful respite. A third character appears a short while into the show too, the internet. As anyone who’s struggled with insomnia will tell you, YouTube and social media elicit a sirens song to the sleepless, and we are swept up with Ange as she is dragged into corners of the internet which urge on her distracted, almost manic, labyrinthine thought spirals.
The whole show feels very much like a James Joyce novel de-constructed and mashed together with the film ‘Being John Malkovich’, but with an Australian clown and Max Von Sydow replacing John Malkovich. This is all very surreal stuff, and anyone hoping for neatly dovetailing narratives, or simple resolutions may find themselves disappointed. The level of skill displayed in the central performance, the production, and the writing are all of the highest quality you could wish for at The Fringe. The lack of a neatly satisfying ending may frustrate some, and this is not a laugh out loud joke fest, despite being very darkly funny and satisfyingly bizarre throughout.
For those seeking out the leftfield, top grade physical theatre, or simply a deep dive into weirdness, this is very much the show for you. Ange is performing in another show alongside the performer who voices her brain, and I’ll definitely be popping into to spend some more time with the fascinating mind of Ange Lavoipierre.
Ewan Law
Mumble Comedy 