Austin Harrison
Shoshana McCallum’s Merely Beloved pitches itself as a “compassionate interrogation…of where love goes when we die” written and performed by a kiwi who has literally won an Emmy. Having recently watched and enjoyed TV Three’s Madam and noted McCallum as a co-creator, I was all too eager to see her in action. The show that met me was not what I expected.
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The first thing to note here is that this is not a stand-up show. It’s not a sketch show. Nor is it a jaunty storytelling show. It is a solo theatre show. The whole thing is delivered at break-neck pace without a breath or an acknowledgement that there are other people in the room. McCallum looks at us, but more because stage rules say she has to, than because she has any regard for our presence. This is immediately a touch jarring for a comedy festival audience who came for laughs, and many of whom– like me– will have seen several laidback and conversational stand-up shows over the past fortnight.
Once I got past that initial adjustment and get my “theatre” hat on, I’m met with a show I can’t quite make head or tail of. The premise is centred on the fictional Elaine who tells the story of how her husband died (and she shouldn’t blame herself) and unpacks her jealousy as she realises he might be in heaven with his late ex-wife Jenny.
It’s absurd, and fun as a premise. Indeed the scenes, characters and scenarios that play out are all pretty nuts- in a good way and certainly lead us down some amusing sidetracks. Twists and turns.
McCallum’s performance is excellent. She switches between characters with ease and displays a fabulous range of voices, and physicalities to show the 10-or-so characters in the world she’s created. She’s deeply watchable and thrusts her way from beat to beat without breath or blunder. It’s an impressive display.
Beyond the performance though, I find that the script itself lands in an awkward middle-ground. It is not quite funny or absurd enough to exist solely as an entertainment piece. It lacks punchlines, it doesn’t revel in the joy of its own absurdity for a moment. I wonder if both performance and script were occasionally given some space to breathe and self-reflect, we might be pulled further into the mad world of Merely Beloved.
But equally, it doesn’t feel personal or allegorical enough to provide me with any genuine sense of catharsis. The emotional arc of the work indicates to me that this is perhaps what McCallum is aiming for. Again, I think the context of being in a festival alongside dozens of people sharing real life stories and personal anecdotes makes it hard for me to fully invest in these clearly invented characters. That context is not McCallum’s fault, but it does bring into question the placement of this work in this festival.
I must acknowledge too that some opening night hiccups with tech, don’t help the flow, or the show. There are a lot of quick lighting changes in the show and I can only feel for the operator as they try to keep up with a barrage of cues in a lightning pace script. The lights often lag behind the action, or randomly change midway through sentences without apparent cause. I’m sure this will improve as the season goes on, and is perhaps another symptom of being in a festival which does not prioritise tech time and regularly hamstrings more theatrical shows with short pack-ins.
Merely Beloved is a work which leaves me astonished by a powerhouse performance, but asking why. Why this story? Why now? Why you? Without clarity on those questions, I struggle to connect with it and leave the theatre ultimately unmoved. If you’re looking for a break and want some theatre in your comedy fest, then this is certainly a change of pace. Merely Beloved runs until Saturday. Tickets available at BATS Theatre.
The first thing to note here is that this is not a stand-up show. It’s not a sketch show. Nor is it a jaunty storytelling show. It is a solo theatre show. The whole thing is delivered at break-neck pace without a breath or an acknowledgement that there are other people in the room. McCallum looks at us, but more because stage rules say she has to, than because she has any regard for our presence. This is immediately a touch jarring for a comedy festival audience who came for laughs, and many of whom– like me– will have seen several laidback and conversational stand-up shows over the past fortnight.
Once I got past that initial adjustment and get my “theatre” hat on, I’m met with a show I can’t quite make head or tail of. The premise is centred on the fictional Elaine who tells the story of how her husband died (and she shouldn’t blame herself) and unpacks her jealousy as she realises he might be in heaven with his late ex-wife Jenny.
It’s absurd, and fun as a premise. Indeed the scenes, characters and scenarios that play out are all pretty nuts- in a good way and certainly lead us down some amusing sidetracks. Twists and turns.
McCallum’s performance is excellent. She switches between characters with ease and displays a fabulous range of voices, and physicalities to show the 10-or-so characters in the world she’s created. She’s deeply watchable and thrusts her way from beat to beat without breath or blunder. It’s an impressive display.
Beyond the performance though, I find that the script itself lands in an awkward middle-ground. It is not quite funny or absurd enough to exist solely as an entertainment piece. It lacks punchlines, it doesn’t revel in the joy of its own absurdity for a moment. I wonder if both performance and script were occasionally given some space to breathe and self-reflect, we might be pulled further into the mad world of Merely Beloved.
But equally, it doesn’t feel personal or allegorical enough to provide me with any genuine sense of catharsis. The emotional arc of the work indicates to me that this is perhaps what McCallum is aiming for. Again, I think the context of being in a festival alongside dozens of people sharing real life stories and personal anecdotes makes it hard for me to fully invest in these clearly invented characters. That context is not McCallum’s fault, but it does bring into question the placement of this work in this festival.
I must acknowledge too that some opening night hiccups with tech, don’t help the flow, or the show. There are a lot of quick lighting changes in the show and I can only feel for the operator as they try to keep up with a barrage of cues in a lightning pace script. The lights often lag behind the action, or randomly change midway through sentences without apparent cause. I’m sure this will improve as the season goes on, and is perhaps another symptom of being in a festival which does not prioritise tech time and regularly hamstrings more theatrical shows with short pack-ins.
Merely Beloved is a work which leaves me astonished by a powerhouse performance, but asking why. Why this story? Why now? Why you? Without clarity on those questions, I struggle to connect with it and leave the theatre ultimately unmoved. If you’re looking for a break and want some theatre in your comedy fest, then this is certainly a change of pace. Merely Beloved runs until Saturday. Tickets available at BATS Theatre.