Jenny Nimon
Stain Your Brain Productions’ show You’d Look So Pretty If is wild, frenzied and surreal. In the show description, the creators say that it “will leave you feeling contemplative, and ready to scream”, and based on my own feelings leaving BATS, I’d say it’s a good prediction.
It’s hard to know where to begin when reviewing this show; there are a lot of thoughts to untangle. Set designer Anne-Lisa Noordover builds a space that I can only describe as some sort of fleshy dreamscape. The floor is painted red and there is a plastic sheet in front of the stage that looks like a membrane. It is bodily, and I feel like I am inside an organ. I particularly love the bizarre see-through sculpture that hangs in the middle of the stage. Is it a jellyfish, a heart, an animal skull? I’m not sure, but all are evocative, beautiful, grotesque. The lighting design works with this mystery shape brilliantly, lighting it from behind, and I only wish that the performers had interacted with it in some way to integrate it further. I have similar feelings about the plastic sheet, which is torn down right at the beginning and not used again until the very end.
Overall, the scenography blends together seamlessly, and the decision to set up the sound desk on stage is a great one. I am haunted by the moments when sound designer Matt Asunder brings in a track that is somehow both lyrical and pounding to back the scenes with the tight puppet (more on that soon). I’ll disclose that my favourite thing about BATS is the dome light, and I’m always sad when it gets neglected. Seeing it used to create a lightning storm (complete with thunder and witch cackling) is incredible, and it might be the best use of it I have seen to date. I can’t fit all the scenographic elements I love into one review, so those of you who have snagged tickets should count yourself lucky that you get to see it for yourselves. Everything about the design of the show has me fizzing.
Having also seen director Rosie Glover’s previous show Don’t Wake Me Up early last year, there is a certain quality to her shows that tells me they are a product of her brain specifically. They are dreamlike, tactile, visceral, abstract, fluid. Everything feels like raw thought. You’d Look So Pretty If is no exception. It follows a monologue structure that is intercut with strange and wonderful movement-based scenes exploring beauty standards, gender roles and violence against women. It asks the question, what does it mean to be feminine and, more importantly, who gets to decide? The monologues are powerful and feel personal to the performers. Part of me would like them to be more connected, but another part of me also likes the way this show finds so many unique ways to express its ideas. Maybe that’s a balance for the cast to find if they ever do a return season (they should). The strongest parts for me, though, are the girls’-sleepover-turns-Frankenstein scenes where the performers stuff pairs of tights and tie them into a body they can puppeteer. It is the perfect metaphor for forced beauty standards and stripped body autonomy.
You’d Look So Pretty If might be a little out there for some people, but I am overjoyed with it. It’s thrilling to see someone use their MFA show to really let loose and experiment. There are so many tiny moments from the show that I am still dissecting and reading into, wondering if I am overthinking them and trying to create meaning that isn’t there. I think that maybe that is the point.
You’d Look So Pretty If is part of the Six Degrees festival – Te Herenga Waka, Victoria University of Wellington’s theatre MFA showcase. The season is now sold out. For more information about the show, please visit the BATS website.
Overall, the scenography blends together seamlessly, and the decision to set up the sound desk on stage is a great one. I am haunted by the moments when sound designer Matt Asunder brings in a track that is somehow both lyrical and pounding to back the scenes with the tight puppet (more on that soon). I’ll disclose that my favourite thing about BATS is the dome light, and I’m always sad when it gets neglected. Seeing it used to create a lightning storm (complete with thunder and witch cackling) is incredible, and it might be the best use of it I have seen to date. I can’t fit all the scenographic elements I love into one review, so those of you who have snagged tickets should count yourself lucky that you get to see it for yourselves. Everything about the design of the show has me fizzing.
Having also seen director Rosie Glover’s previous show Don’t Wake Me Up early last year, there is a certain quality to her shows that tells me they are a product of her brain specifically. They are dreamlike, tactile, visceral, abstract, fluid. Everything feels like raw thought. You’d Look So Pretty If is no exception. It follows a monologue structure that is intercut with strange and wonderful movement-based scenes exploring beauty standards, gender roles and violence against women. It asks the question, what does it mean to be feminine and, more importantly, who gets to decide? The monologues are powerful and feel personal to the performers. Part of me would like them to be more connected, but another part of me also likes the way this show finds so many unique ways to express its ideas. Maybe that’s a balance for the cast to find if they ever do a return season (they should). The strongest parts for me, though, are the girls’-sleepover-turns-Frankenstein scenes where the performers stuff pairs of tights and tie them into a body they can puppeteer. It is the perfect metaphor for forced beauty standards and stripped body autonomy.
You’d Look So Pretty If might be a little out there for some people, but I am overjoyed with it. It’s thrilling to see someone use their MFA show to really let loose and experiment. There are so many tiny moments from the show that I am still dissecting and reading into, wondering if I am overthinking them and trying to create meaning that isn’t there. I think that maybe that is the point.
You’d Look So Pretty If is part of the Six Degrees festival – Te Herenga Waka, Victoria University of Wellington’s theatre MFA showcase. The season is now sold out. For more information about the show, please visit the BATS website.