Delicate, warm and bubbly, Lee Minora uses this one-woman spectacle to question all things big and small. You, as an audience member, are embraced by the comedian as you are whisked through a sea of baby blue to explorations of the human body, the character’s relationship with her mother, all with sprinkles of US politics in the backdrop.
At 10.10am, this show commences, and the style of storytelling is immediately attractive. You feel initially cosy, and virtually reborn within Minora’s presence. She utilises the stage in exciting ways, donning a variety of costumes and props. There is a danger with this playground of equipment that the audience can become neglected. No. You can tell Minora’s comedy training as she improvises well with the audience, which produces the most comedic sections. This moves her outside the notorious, classic one-woman show category. She does well in becoming a character: the happy-go-lucky schoolgirl, but with her own problems in the backdrop. She uses this character to emphasise the problems lying beneath everyone. She is refreshing, and while at points, she becomes a little like a typical film character (troubled inside yet outwardly happy), she is blindingly funny.
Cleverly, at the start of the performance, she places emphasis on the fact that phones should be switched off, in her wistful, playful style. With this, she can then bring the focus to this issue throughout the production. She spotlights politicians’ loud voices, motivational speakers whose megaphones blare out, and then her tiny, small part in all this: our small part in this as we spectate this satirical storytelling. Everything is done with a great subtlety which is gloriously fitting for the title of her story. Similarly, she draws on diagnoses and fears about her health before diminishing these scares. Slowly, throughout this production, the central character realises she dictates herself and many of her struggles, like doctors confirming diagnoses or motivational speakers telling her how to think. Minora highlights a deeper sense of self.
Sometimes the story unfortunately veers off track to art galleries and segues to Italian accents. Some of this is highly humorous; other moments are just a little puzzling. It would be better in these sections to excavate the central character’s fragile relationship with her mother or explore more closely the political aspects of the story. This wild, wacky humour, where the production goes off on tangents, is sadly detrimental.
Still, there are so many great moments of dark humour, some of which fail to get a laugh; there are a couple of awkward pauses. Although there are other moments, such as when the audience is interrogated about whether the world is the best it has ever been. This is a perilous question, and Minora manages to infiltrate the audience with this dark, contemplative perspective while pursuing her intense comedy.
While moments land a little awkwardly, Minora has formed a genius show which subtly offers perspectives and challenges fears with a gentle hand.
Listings and ticket information can be found hereÂ
