Theatre503 and Polly Ingham Productions present 'Freak.'

By E.L. Hardy

Last night was my second visit to Freak in as many weeks. This punchy and vivid two-hander left an indelible mark on this year’s Edinburgh Fringe and I was hoping that a second look might help me to establish why. So, the play finished. The two women bowed. Everyone clapped. I'd been utterly engaged for the full hour. I'd done a lot of reminiscing - reassessing too. I'd been moved to tears again, and laughter - sometimes both at the same time. But mostly I felt encumbered, the play weighing heavily on me – even more so than before. What is it about this play that gets to me so much?

I ask the actors: To Lia Burge, who plays 30 year-old Georgie, the play is “a rare expression of the honest female self, in all its ugliness and beauty,” and April Hughes, who plays 15 year-old Leah explains “It’s the exposure and sharing of the truth that makes you feel OK.”

And it is exactly that. It is exceptionally rare to find genuine honesty on this topic. For one hour, two women speak candidly about sex – without anyone to judge them but themselves. This is no muted, romanticised sitcom, no Sex in the City. This unearths the stuff that we all know to be true and present, but would rather keep to ourselves when at brunch 'with the girls,' for fear of feeling ashamed, or being thought of as 'slutty,' or not very ‘feminine.’ Freak is an enlightening hour of complete disclosure - abrasively honest and stark, but it is strangely soothing too. Cathartic. This restorative after-effect is what makes this play about female sexuality so significant, unique and, dare I say, empowering.

The show is set in one bedroom which represents the room of both characters. It represents every-room, for it could be anyone's or anywhere. Georgie and Leah, miles apart, confide in us, from the sanctuary of this one double bed. Alternating monologues in direct address, they grant us unlimited access to the insides of their heads - handing us an exclusive, all-access pass to the words that we know they have never before spoken aloud.

"I can be a … freak!"

Determined to bypass the final few years of her childhood (and feeling privileged to have the attention of the fittest boy in the school), Leah readies herself for sex, with four-mile runs, the 5:2 diet and hair removal cream. Armed with all that can be learnt from Zoo magazine and Rihanna videos, Leah rejects her riding hood and gallops enthusiastically into the arms of the wolf. Buzzing with childlike, nervous exuberance, Hughes beautifully depicts the teenager in a performance that is replete with warmth and comedy. Naivety and insecurity emanate from her (partly endearing, partly excruciating) use of upward inflection. She appears familiar to us. Blisteringly pointed musical transitions to the ironic strains of 'Who run the World? Girls!’ with blue lighting and sexualised poses, make for a particularly disturbing look at how readily the little girl in pyjamas, playing with her cuddly seal, will objectify herself in an attempt to emulate her friends and role models.

And then there's recently single, tough (but crumbling) cookie Georgie, played by Burge.

“They think I am the most beautiful thing in the world. And I don’t mind being a thing. I don’t want their respect. I want only their animal desire.”

Feeling alone but liberated, relishing any opportunity to be desired, Georgie winds up working in a lap dancing club. She enjoys the attention and starts to feel good again, for a while. Finishing work, she takes a bottle back to her room, watches shit on TV and awaits the next setting of the sun, before emerging once more to be the provider of pleasure. Georgie’s story is the harder of the two to tell, simply because it is the more extreme and traumatic. However, Burge’s earthy and mature performance makes it impossible not to connect and identify with the character. It is disarming to witness Georgie's rapid but smooth unravelling, with the men around her taking advantage of her determination to self-destruct. It is a huge testament to Burge for bringing the reality of the situation to the surface and insisting that we, the audience, connect to every corner of Georgie’s journey. She makes it easy for us to listen to words that are hard to hear. God only knows how hard they are to speak aloud.

The two stories initially run adjacent to each other, but soon begin to intertwine - a line or a word delivered each - jumping from one story to the next, until they eventually emulsify. More and more common ground begins to emerge. Georgie, for example, is initially thrilled to be responsible for so much pleasure and then disappointed not to be feel included: “I thought I’d be involved.” Likewise, Leah softly contemplates wriggling out from underneath Luke, as he “seems to be in a place where [she] can’t join him" anyway. They become one, like before and after pictures of a once-wholesome, but now fallen, child star. Mistakes are, let’s face it, easier to spot when you’re on the outside looking in. But, as much as we attempt to transmit hard-earned wisdom from our seats in the 503, these women, of course, need to learn their own lessons the hard way, before qualifying to help one another.

This masterpiece is a brilliantly challenging play to watch but, with Anna Jordan's generous offering of an antidote, the audience can see a brighter tomorrow for these women as a result of their eventual honesty to each other. Such performances and such writing leaves us little choice but to be charmed away from our judgemental instincts and examine, with eyes wide open, the truth of 21st Century relationships.

Following a sell-out Edinburgh run, Freak, written and directed by current Bruntwood prize winner Anna Jordan, has transferred to London’s Theatre503 for the month of September.

FREAK

Written and Directed By Anna Jordan

Theatre 503

Tuesday 2nd- Sat 27th

Tuesday – Sunday 7:45pm, Sundays 5pm.

Tickets: £12 - £15

Box Office: 020 7978 7040

Online Booking: https://theatre503.com/book-online/

@postscriptjour

@E_L_Hardy

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