Ready or Not

A SOLO WORK can live or die by a combination of two crucial things – the acting and the writing.

Thankfully, both performance and writing in this case was in the safe hands of talented actor-writer Ainslee Palmer in her debut solo work. We explore the confronting world of trauma and how we handle it- usually by presenting the veneer of a public “everything’s-fine” face when clearly it is not.

I have always found that work with a confronting message is far more effective if it is subtle and not obvious – particularly if the subject matter is something that may require some sort of response on your part as a member of the audience. Personally, I don’t respond well (if at all) to being battered over the head and told “you have to think this way” about a serious matter. I liken it to presenting one with a sentence without the verb of action. That verb of action is you – as an audience member – and how you choose to interpret or act upon it is up to you. In other words, let me think for myself and act accordingly.

Palmer has avoided these pitfalls by effectively cracking a series of jokes and funny situations. What better way to capture an audience by making them feel at ease before you hit them with the serious stuff by luring them in with the “funnies”. Here it is in the form of some amusing comic performing, including lip-syncing to the Andrews Sisters, punctuated with amusing sound effects to a soundscape which is minutely choreographed – and the production is filled with many light moments.

In her avoidance of dealing with the issue haunting her, she seeks to personify the “darling-I’m-home” 1950s notion of what constituted the “perfect woman” – the Stepford wife.  But this is not the 1950s – it is the 1990s and today with the action alternating freely between the character’s then-childhood and her contemporary adulthood.  We see vignettes from her life with children’s birthday parties, a visit to the pub with her father, horse races and her attempts at latter-day perfection. Palmer’s bold green and white polka-dot costume lends itself well to these multiple changes in timeframe.

What we have here is a self-confessed Gilmore Girls fanatic (the significance of its inclusion and references in the script was explained to me by an accompanying friend), whose public persona is trying to present the good things in her life (the “minty moments”). But we are progressively presented with more hints that this perfect public persona conceals something darker, and the intensity builds in this “one-woman show about my trauma“.

The script is constructed in an interesting layered manner and as we come to grips with exactly what her trauma was, it is made all the more interesting in that it is never really addressed head on. It becomes much more sinister because the gradual reveal assumes the inferred parallel of many abuse victims’ experiences – the shame, guilt and repression compounded by family dynamics of simply not mentioning or discussing the issue.

Central to the success – or otherwise – of this piece is Ainslee Palmer herself. Whether the piece is semi-autobiographical or based on intensive research is not clear, but what we do see is a nuanced performance of enormous range which is an acting lesson in itself. Sensitively directed by Lisa Smith, there are a range of theatrical devices to innovatively assist in the story-telling, including puppetry, props (particularly the enormous prop turkey), all produced from behind the pink and green shop counter which dominates the set.

While some may feel that there was never an emotional resolution to the issue, that is not the point of the piece. In true Chekhovian tradition, it is more about reaction to events than experiencing the actual emotion. The open ending leaves one with a sense that this is definitely not over. But then is trauma ever truly over?

This is an interesting piece, presented as part of a regional tour of Queensland. Like many self-penned works, it will be fascinating to see how it develops with more public performance.

Other dates on tour:

23 November: St Luke’s Bundaberg

25 & 26 November: Perseverance Street, Gympie

Trevor Keeling