Issy Cory
You’re at a party, crying in the toilet with your best friend, then all of a sudden you both find yourselves inside your collective mind. And there’s a ham. Which lights up. We’ve all been there, right?
Ry has escaped to the toilet after hearing an insensitive comment at a party, and Max is immediately there to support them. Until they find themselves literally getting in their head about the situation. They meet a ham, yes a literal joint of ham, suitable for a Sunday roast.
The ham who won’t explain why they’re there, or how they can escape. The hunger pangs that Max and Ry begin to feel are only the start of a downward spiral into body dysmorphia disaster. Snacking turns to snapping at one another, the toilet flushes incessantly, and neither of them want to confront the elephant in the room: the word ‘skinny’.
All attempts to welcome the audience into this pink-themed fever dream fall on deaf ears, as the narrative is quickly cast aside in favour of several absurdist inserts that lead us further into a brain fog. Dressing up as Santa in a cheesy episode about eating during the holidays turns into a tech mogul with their starved wife showcasing a new app that allows you to pick specific embryos for their gender, which turns into a repetitive dance break to the song ‘I Am What I Am’.
The scene where Ry attends an audition – where the glow-up ham (presumably symbolic of their eating disorder?) is a distraction to the panel, causing them to send Ry home – is the only insert that feels considerate enough to place alongside what is a delicate yet heavy topic.
There is no doubt that the performances are solid, yet quite what they are performing we still can’t say for sure. Moments where the writing is very well crafted, where the message feels real and raw, are obscured by ambitious but half-baked concepts. The true intrigue of the show is Max and Ry’s quasi-romantic friendship, and the difficulties brought by being trauma-bonded to your bestie.
When Max rejects Ry in the final scene of the play, we get to see the profound complexities of both their characters. Max cannot be around someone who triggers her, and Ry needs to let their anxious attachment go; they don’t want to, but they have to be apart. We’re left wondering, why wasn’t this facet of their relationship explored all along?
Whilst the inventive props and cute af costumes make for a visual thrill, 3HAMS could do with a little more time in the oven.
Recommended Drink: Pink lemonade, to match the fluffy robes and velour backdrop.
You can catch 3HAMS at Just the Tonic at The Mash House – Just the Cask Room from Aug 7-11, 13-25 at 14:25. Tickets are available through the EdFringe Box Office https://tickets.edfringe.com/whats-on/3hams
Jake Mace
Moss Meunier
