Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again.

Wit Incorporated is turning into the little theatre company that could with their latest production. British playwright Alice Birch created Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again as a commission for the Royal Shakespeare Company in 2014. She was given the prompt, “well-behaved women seldom make history”. From this flowed the confronting, hilarious and thought-provoking play which has now been staged by Wit and directed by Emily O’Brien Brown.

This play is a 4 handed piece with each actor taking on a variety of roles as we make our way through 4 distinct vignettes exposing common experiences of women and their retaking of their power – whether it be the expectation of marriage, or the poignancy of motherhood.  Revolt is hilarious.  At least the beginning. As an audience we get to laugh along with a hapless and oft times confused man who is expressing his desire to “make love to” rather than “with” his partner. What follows is a woman reclaiming her sexual power. “My vagina is an organ” exclaims Madeleine Magee-Carr. She is anatomically correct but perhaps social skirting the edges.  This is what this play does. It skirts the edges for the first half, dealing with microaggressions in loving relationships and in the workplace.  A boss who cannot fathom their female worker wanting more time off unless it’s for pregnancy. A partner who considers an engagement ring to be the only logical extension of a relationship (much to Lansy Feng’s brilliantly hilarious chagrin).  But Revolt is more than this. 

Without warning we are confronted with a scenario of intense distress.  A woman has laid down in the aisle of a supermarket, and laid herself open, naked to any and all.  In a monologue which is reminiscent of the performance art of Maria Abramovic, Magee-Carr tells of the lengths her character has gone to protect her body from abuse only to give it all up and lay down - because you can’t attack what is not defended.  It’s a poignant moment in the script but sadly Magee-Carr doesn’t seem to have the range, and the scene is entirely stolen but the fabulous comic timing of AYA and Jack Twelvetree as the shop assistants who want to know “what the fuck” she thinks she’s doing.

AYA has some serious acting chops and they show them throughout the show. As the show takes a dark turn they play the daughter to Lansy Feng’s mother and the interaction is heartbreaking and sublime. As AYA begs, rails, pleads for acceptance by their mother, Feng sits silently as the pain breaks across her face.  It’s so real it’s almost too difficult to watch and you find yourself wanting to look away from that pain. But as good as Feng is, AYA is the star of this show and their final monologue about thought not being enough for change, brings tears and silence.

The staging of this brilliant show is really the only let down.  The show itself is bigger than the venue is and whilst it was an interesting choice to have three risers in different places of the room, having the seating on the floor means there are parts of the show which you just cannot see.  The sound design is well intentioned but not ideal, taking away from powerful dialogue at key moments. The lighting almost hits the light, unless you find yourself blinded but an LED light for a scene…

Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again. Is a sensational piece of theatre performed by some wonderful talent.  It is definitely not for children and discusses issues of self harm, family violence and sexual abuse. It definitely needs this trigger warning, however this is an important piece of work and well worth the admission price.

L.B. Bermingham

Photographer: Darren Gill