The last of The Trilogy Of Terror that day (though there is an epilogue) which I had gradually started to realise was dragging me down somewhat. Between this show and the last I had popped to The Library Bar in the Gilded Balloon (a quiet oasis of calm in all the mayhem) for a pint and had received a message about a show called Naked Girls Reading. Already feeling a bit dumped after Alice and Erin (not because of their shows, which were brilliant) I could have done without that (and if you want to hear the mental journey I went on you can can see it on Youtube).
Another kinda random punt (which is what the Fringe is all about) which fitted into timeslots and geography. The write-up seemed interesting, the ideas intriguing, so why not?
She was fabulous.
A veritable bundle of nervous energy and bounciness, Ms. Willan entered the small room over the seats, dancing and gyrating and GETTING THE PARTY STARTED! Which is hard at four in the afternoon with a largely middle-aged audience in chinos and summer frocks. She's from Bolton and working-class, themes that would permeate the show. She had also, as it turned out, had a "troubled" upbringing. She came into possession of her entire social work file in her early 20s and noted it's strange to have your entire life so comprehensively detailed and documented - the show was based around various notes and documents from this file with the words "Rebellious. Defiant. Rude" (which I thought would have made a better title for the show) a constant refrain.
Her Mum wasn't dead, for once. But WAS a heroin-addict with no teeth. Dad was nowhere to be found. She had an eccentric extended family and was brought up largely by aunts and grandmas and foster parents. Cheery.
However she put a layer of comedy over it all and her energy and enthusiasm diverted attention from the fact her story is pretty grim. Compelling, but grim.
She did wind things up in a positive and moving-forward way, but as we filed out and thanked her for her performance (she was standing at the door as we exited) I couldn't help feeling a little lost and despairing. I thanked her, she smiled at me, and I walked out into the Pleasance Courtyard. I had an hour and a half 'til the next show and had never felt so lost and alone in my life ...
ADDENDUM
With regards to twerking ...
I was in my usual place, where I like to be, at the front (not just because I like to actually see and hear the performer, but because if I'm in the front I'm negatively impacting the fewest people around me). Ms. Willan bounced on and the first few minutes of the show was banter with the audience. She came to me ...
"Oh, you're tall!"
"Yes, I am."
"Hear that Ladies and Gentlmen? 'Yes I am' - straightforward, factual. I like that. Did you like my dancing love? Three simple moves, easy. Would you like me to teach you? Come up on stage love and I'll show you ..."
So I went up on stage and was taught the chest-shimmy (you look down at your tits, act surprised and try to shake them off), the hip square (thrust your hips into each corner of a square, then try and circle) and twerking (stand still, feet planted on the floor, bend over, tummy in, arse out, and run without moving your feet). We put it together in a routine. I didn't see anyone leaving or vomiting (and a chap afterwards congratulated me afterwards and said I had done well) so I can only hope I didn't ruin the show. I did quite like being up there under the lights ...
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