Actor and lyricist Chelsea McRae with musician Mario Sadra-de Jong, sound engineer Cody MacRae and dramaturg Amanda Martin with direction from Marea Colombo, have created an amusing and insightful take on the range of mental distresses which plague us all to various degrees.
The stage at Allen Hall on Friday evening was sparsely set with large screen and de rigueur couch. The only caveat being that the screen was not floor-length, allowing full sight of a passing array of audience and actor’s legs.
But after Sadra-de Jong’s entry in harlequin-esque Elton John glitter and glasses, the darkened stage was ready for a flourish of aural imagery heralded by Crazy Ex-Girlfriend’s I’m a Good Person, So Much Gooder Than You.
MacRae appears as a noir little-red-riding hood (sans hood). She is garrulous, raunchy and cringe-worthy as well as virginal and overly self-conscious. She says the wrong thing "all the time". She requires a pick-me-up, preferably via an instantly gratifying pill, to remain firmly in denial.
Her therapist, the audience, silent, shadowy and watchful, thinks otherwise. The ensuing confessional includes a range of emotions which are both clear-sighted and amusingly diversionary but mercifully never clawing.
We are encouraged to have a laugh at ourselves. Utterances are prompted by mute but stunning "corrections". The audience is run through with a gamut of the ills besetting young women, from societal expectations, the workplace, to husband and friends.
McRae’s script is breathlessly presented, interspersed with song and dance to successfully keep the stage alive.
Cellphone texts provide feedback from the world beyond the couch.
Sadra-de Jong collaborates to keep the tone light. The reveal builds almost imperceptibly, the catharsis is shared by all.
Therapy represents the tortuous voyage towards self discovery. Its air of whimsy makes the pill successfully palatable.
Review by Marian Poole
