Tag Archives: Will Alder

All by myself

All by Myself

β˜…β˜…Β½

Online

All by myself

All by Myself

Online via AppleCart Arts

Reviewed – 23rd October 2020

β˜…β˜…Β½

 

“a more nuanced discussion and less dramatics would go far in improving this play”

 

All By Myself, directed by Jessica Bickel-Barlow and produced by Olivia Munk, is a one-woman show that tells the story of an unnamed woman (Charlie Blandford), alone in her apartment, but connected to the outside world through her YouTube account. The play explores the comparison between the image that appears on social media and real life, the former often carefully curated to achieve the desired results.

The performance begins with a pre-recorded video of the YouTube starlet trying to film the opening clips of her next upload. The woman obsesses over her hair, the positioning of her shoulders, and the tone of her voice as she attempts to simply greet her audience. When the woman β€˜messes up’ or shows how she truly feels, the video pauses and we see the undesirable clips being deleted in editing. Her YouTube video is the only time that we hear our star speak, the rest of the play in near silence apart from a few exclamations and cries.

After this, the audience gets to meet the β€˜real’ woman behind the vlogging camera. Immaculately dressed and wearing heavy make-up in her videos; in her apartment, the woman lounges in pyjamas with her hair tied back in a rough ponytail. She casually eats Coco Pops dry from the box and empty drinks bottles are strewn around her. She appears comfortable without the world watching her.

This soon changes as we see the woman obsessing over taking photos for social media. Peeling a potato for a homemade facemask, the woman meticulously scatters and repositions the potato peel for the desired photo opportunity. Later, our protagonist has a panic attack when she cannot get a good picture of her desk strewn with fairy lights.

The performance does raise some interesting points, mainly, about how we only sees a small snippet of a content creator’s life, but a few scenes border on the ridiculous. At the end of the play, the woman’s phone charger stops working, sending her into a frenzy. She quickly pulls out six potatoes and tries to devise a battery with nails and wire. It is doubtful even the most addicted phone users have tried this trick. This level of dramatics muddies the very real issues that the play is trying to address.

There are also clear opportunities to highlight real versus online that are not utilised. Throughout the show, the woman takes Instagram photos around her apartment. It would have been great if the β€˜final product’ flashed up on screen so we could see both the curated result and the chaos behind it.

The script is also a little on the nose at times. For example, while filming, the woman thanks her audience before mumbling, β€œif you’re still watching or care or should care.” The woman’s desire for human connection could have easily been expressed through an overenthusiasm for comments or calling her audience her β€˜family’ or β€˜friends’ as many YouTubers do. This desperation, like the potato battery, feels overblown.

The set was nicely put together. The back of a kitchen unit and fridge faces the audience, a desk and chair are to the left and an armchair to the right. The lights are simple, only changing significantly when the woman naps after her panic attack and darkness sets in. Blamford is strong in her role as the woman, even though she has no lines to work with.

The themes of All By Myself are incredibly topical, especially as society becomes more aware of the adverse effects of social media. However, a more nuanced discussion and less dramatics would go far in improving this play.

 

 

Reviewed by Flora Doble

Photography by Will Alder

 


All by Myself

Online via AppleCart Arts as part of the Dazed New World Festival 2020

 

Previously reviewed by Flora:
Tribes | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Putney Arts Theatre | January 2020
Important Art | β˜…β˜…β˜… | The Vaults | February 2020
Jekyll & Hyde | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | The Vaults | February 2020
Minority Report | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | The Vaults | February 2020
The Six Wives Of Henry VIII | β˜…β˜…β˜… | King’s Head Theatre | February 2020
Julius Caesar | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | The Space | March 2020
The Haus Of Kunst | β˜…β˜…β˜… | The Vaults | March 2020
Pippin | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | The Garden Theatre | September 2020
Big Girl | β˜…β˜…β˜… | Bread & Roses Theatre | September 2020
How to Live a Jellicle Life | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | Lion & Unicorn Theatre | October 2020

 

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Easy

Easy

β˜…β˜…β˜…

Blue Elephant Theatre

Easy

Easy

Blue Elephant Theatre

Reviewed – 14th November 2019

β˜…β˜…β˜…

 

“an important play that intuitively understands the struggles of being a teenager in a toxic, image-focused society”

 

Alice is sixteen and eagerly waiting for something exciting to happen to her. Something that involves Fit Jamie from maths; something that proves she isn’t being left behind. But when something does happen, it is neither as exciting, nor as good, as she hoped it would be. It is something difficult. Something with consequences.

Amy Blakelock’s examination of social media, sex and teenage anxiety has all the elements of a good story: a likeable protagonist, a compelling narrative, and a shocking twist. Blakelock tells this story using an authentic teenage voice. Aspects sound a little artificial, but are mostly pertinent and always entertaining. The early parts of her script are full of faux maturity, sprinkled with clichΓ©s about how GCSEs can’t be all that – β€˜Dad only got one O Level, and that was in woodwork’ – and the definitive list of what men (read: teenage boys) want. Blakelock effectively deepens these themes as the story grows darker, forcing the audience to reflect on the damage that such highly promoted ideals can do.

Robyn Wilson is endearing as Alice, full of energy and openness that makes her easy to connect with. Her delivery is subtly humorous in its naΓ―vetΓ©, but still ripples with emotional honesty. The highlight of Wilson’s performance is her portrayal of Alice’s response to the event, in which these ripples become torrents that chill the observer.

Another aspect that deserves praise is Verity Johnson’s set, which acts as a clever metaphor for the themes of openness and shame. Four white platforms and a set of lockers become hiding places for painful aspects of the past that lie in wait until Alice is ready to reclaim them.

The main issue is the pace of the show: whilst it creates a character arc and a satisfying conclusion, this comes at the expense of close examination. There are several aspects of this story that I feel could have been expanded on. It would have been interesting, for example, to see the consequences faced not only by Alice, but by the perpetrators. Even this moment in Alice’s story feels a little vague, as her interactions with teachers, counsellors and the police pass us by in quick succession. I think it would have been beneficial to interrogate how schools deal with events like this, and whether or not the outcome really reflects the seriousness of the crime. It would also have explained Alice’s new found wisdom, which Wilson beautifully exhibits in the final scene.

Despite its flaws, Easy is an important play that intuitively understands the struggles of being a teenager in a toxic, image-focused society. Whilst it may seem to be a play for teenage girls about teenage girls, it is key that this kind of story reaches everyone, so that we can, as a whole, understand the implications of this toxicity on young people today.

 

Reviewed by Harriet Corke

Photography by Will Alder

 


Easy

Blue Elephant Theatre until 23rd November

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
Sisyphus Distressing | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | March 2018
Boxman | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | July 2018
Alice: The Lost Chapter | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2018
My Brother’s Drug | β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2018
Bost Uni Plues | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2018
Canary | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | November 2018
Nofilter | β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2018

 

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