9 – 13 July
Imagine you are going to have to go through passport control several times a day for the foreseeable future. If you don’t set off any alarms you will be allowed through to carry on with your life. If you do, you won’t.
For ‘passport control’ read Adult Eating Disorder Unit. Papatango award-winning debutante playwright Laura Waldren’s brutally honest play explores the lived experience of a group of women within the mental health system. Zoe, Sam, Nazia and Mara are each fighting their various eating disorders, having to comply with and meet the unit’s prerequisites for fear they could find their freedom removed with a section order under the Mental Health Act.
Drawing parallels with the nature of repressive political regimes, Waldren sometimes paints the protocols of mental health treatment as deeply controlling – not heartless, but with the metaphor of absolute authority always close. On the other hand, she illustrates the sufferers as being in a state of limbo – Talking Heads’ Road to Nowhere very appropriately introduces the piece, while Nietzsche later provides some of the existential ferment that courses through the room.
Interestingly, as the play develops, whereas we initially experience Key Nurses Leanne and Mike (Hannah Saxby and Joshua James) through the eyes of the patients as nit-picking, patronising and controlling, over time, and particularly with the character of Mike, we begin to appreciate they have vulnerabilities of their own, as they try to maintain emotional distance while attempting to deliver an appropriately professional response. Tensions are pretty close to the surface, and can boil over. Waldren makes it known that being a mental health nurse isn’t easy.
Waldren’s grasp of her characters is absolute; she has been waiting four years to see actors bring her story alive – a brilliant cast does her huge justice.
Sirine Saba plays the 40-something, seen-it-all-before, revolving doors type patient Zoe, giving her a defining rebellious nature alongside her struggles with self-loathing and guilt. Hannah Saxby injects the vulnerable 18-year-old Sam with believable fear that she faces prolonged incarceration and the loss of a university place. Leah Brotherhead provides the night’s most visceral moments as Mara, a woman shuddering with internal rages as she tries to bypass attempts to make her eat, while Witney White as Nazia begins to find catharsis as she owns up to the compulsive behaviours that have resulted in her being cast off by her partner. Amy Beth Hayes gives Key Nurse Leanne a fixed smile professional aloofness, a bossiness that can sometimes appear chilling, while Joshua James portrays her colleague Mike as the young professional who, while adhering to the protocols, has personal awareness of his patients’ experiences, which gives his character more warmth.
As every tick and utterance of the patients is analysed, they begin to develop survival strategies beneath the noses of the professionals. Waldren’s portrayal of Zoe and Sam’s relationship is well observed, with some carefree rebelliousness thrown into the mix which helps the audience through a long and demanding play.
It is Zoe, finally, who punctures the evening most startlingly with her observation that, ultimately, as someone with an eating disorder, you are on your own. To survive you must accept that people will get bored with your condition, and, above all, you need to be honest about your readiness to cope without professional help.
Some Demon keeps us on the edge of our seats with its quick-fire conversational style. We are very much ‘in the room’ with these people – and The Weston Studio Theatre provides a perfectly intimate setting for this. On a minimalist set with a simple kitchen area at the rear of the stage, plastic chairs and moveable tables for mealtimes or ‘helpful or challenging thought’ sessions, Director George Turvey keeps the performance pacy, while allowing silence to hang in the air at moments of deep despair.
Laura Waldren’s play forces us to experience the dilemma of those desperately wanting a normal life while battling inner ‘fiends’ that seek absolute control. It is an impressive debut.
★★★★☆ Simon Bishop, 10 July 2024
Photo credit: Ellie Kurttz
