Rebekah Smith
Enjoying cuddly toys and praying to Santa is great, but big tits and kissing boys sure is better.
The Evolutionary and Inescapable Rotting of Girlhood is a creative and playful collection of scenes, monologues and motifs presented by Canadian student theatre company Yuffa Fringe. Packed full of manifestations and proclamations, this production follows a teenage friendship group as they explore their newfound shame, bodies, sexuality and gender expression.
The show opens and two lads sit at ease on stage with guitars and porn magazines. While they enjoy sex easily and without shame, I’m immediately filled me with a familiar sense of teenage dread. This is certainly going to be a trip down memory lane. Suddenly the ‘girls’ burst on with powerful movements, primordial screaming and a huge release of emotion. There’s the 13-year-old hormonal surge I know and love.
This company delights in the familiar and guides us through shared memories from our girlhoods as we witness recognisable experiences of discovering the comfort of men’s boxers, the corrupt capitalism surrounding menstrual hygiene products, boys that all smell of the same overpowering deodorant, and a bedroom of cuddly toys turned to face away from vibrators and newly bought lace bras and thongs.
A particularly strong creative choice was the presence of male performers. In particular, the boyish musicians (Cole Villa and Andy Waite) provide a painfully cool, calm and self-assured presence in the corner of the stage which contrasts starkly with the uncomfortable, impassioned and expressive reactions of the three leads (Sarah Allen, Zoe Magirias and Payton Oswald). Effective too are the monologues dedicated to male experiences of the world. As these girls mature, they are fit into the role of therapist and empathiser while the most mournful and engaging explorations of humanity are given to male experience.
This is frustratingly not unfamiliar in scripts for both stage and screen but, in this show it is at least self-aware and in touch. When the girls do share tender, profound reflections, it is as a communal offering with each other – a conversation rather than a counselling session. They listen and play off each other, with their combined voices acting as catharsis and means for both characters and audience to heal in a meaningful way.
I feel that the character of Beezleboob (played by Dylan Carter) needs further development. This drag character acts as nurturer and celebrator of puberty and sexual awakening within the story, but the scenes don’t feel as driven and intentional as they could do. Perhaps understandable with this being a student production, I felt that the performance lacks confidence and authority at times. I’d have liked to see more self-assurance and charisma from the godlike Beezleboob to convince us of their sexual freedom and joy. However, they do invite us into an enlivening and triumphant show number towards the end of the play, which is warm, welcoming and joyous.
The Evolutionary and Inescapable Rotting of Girlhood looks defiantly beyond the shame thrust upon teenage girls and towards something bigger and more meaningful. It was pleasantly more hopeful and optimistic than I thought it would be, as a show named after the decaying of girlhood. The girls in question are eager and jubilant despite their painful periods and prescribed guilt around sexual expression. They live, and live fully, so that we as an audience can share their highs and lows accordingly.
Some tableaus felt bewildering and out of place, while the speed of line delivery occasionally lost meaning along the way. However, the bedroom set perfectly inhabits the metamorphosing territory of a newly pubescent girl, and there are recurring nostalgic motifs that make for a pleasant and engaging watch. The ensemble deftly cover the yearning for those golden years and how our relationships with our mothers influence our anxieties and identities.
Fond and bittersweet energies fill this hour-long performance and leave us with a poignant ending where the girls embrace their castmate Lion (played by Aj White) declaring “This story is ours. It is not yours. But we are so happy you’re here.” And that is the show’s strength. It invites you into an experience rarely talked about in candour and rarely shared with unbridled enthusiasm. It is a brave and bold production, and consequently the nervousness and uncertainty come across in the student cohort.
This is forgivable however, as the cast allows themselves a hugely difficult vulnerability and expression on stage. This is a cohesive and connected ensemble that have created a delightful, sentimental and heartfelt production of a time that can often be unforgiving.
Drink recommendation: Baby’s first alcopop – (blue flavour in my case)
Performances of The Evolutionary and Inescapable Rotting of Girlhood have now concluded at EdFringe 2024.
Jake Mace
