Review by Jen
How do we know who we are? Is it what we think that defines us, or what we do? And what happens to that identity when we become parents, irreversibly responsible for someone other than ourselves? These are questions that Jess Brodie’s GUSH poses and begins to answer. Premiering at the Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh, the one-woman show follows expectant mother Ally preparing for the imminent birth of her first child as she questions who she is and who she will become. The play opens in media res as she waits for a taxi which will take her to meet a female sex worker at a hotel, an encounter which Ally deems her ‘one chance’ to confirm her queerness before she becomes a mother, telling the audience ‘in order to be, I have to act’. This is a woman stuck, but not unhappy, in a life which she feels like an imposter in. Across three encounters with sex worker Emily, concealed from her husband with clumsy lies, GUSH follows Ally as she overcomes her self-conscious awkwardness and encounters, for the first time, a sexual experience with a woman.
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| Photo by Mihaela Bodlovic |
The script is pacey and witty, almost spoken word with its plosives and rhythms. Supported by effortless direction from Becky Hope-Palmer, performer Jessica Hardwick illustrates the narrative’s various characters with humour and charm through her panicked inner monologue. She narrates her sitcom-level bad luck (awkward run-ins with childhood best friends and a horribly inopportune early labour) with self-effacing playfulness, constantly urging herself to ‘act normal’ and reacting to the story with hilariously timed facial expressions that make us feel part of an inside joke. The audience are with her every step of the way, even through the deceit she exercises on her doting husband. We struggle to blame her for her affair, and even to perceive her actions as deliberate adultery. This is an experience for her, and only her, in the last moments before her life is forever defined by somebody else, an elapse of identity that is already happening throughout her pregnancy – as Ally tells us, ‘conversation has become an expression of what’s in my womb, not in my heart’. In this way, GUSH taps into a dialogue around sacrifice and the self; what some, including her husband, perceive as selfish, she deems a necessary act of self-preservation. Ally, terrified of disappearing into motherhood and losing the essence of self, genuinely believes that if she does not act on her desires, ‘somewhere down the line [she] will break’.
Understated and effective lighting from Renny Robertson and sound and composition from Niroshini Thambar provide beautiful tension and release throughout the play. Ally, a knot of nerves throughout the piece, melts into moments with Emily as gentle and ethereal music, along with intimately soft lighting, almost hypnotises the audience. The set design from Becky Minto is wonderful: a shiny white backdrop and stage is populated only by a wooden bedframe full of cushions. This serves as both the bed in Ally’s secret hotel and the hospital she gives birth in, drawing a powerful parallel between sex, childbirth, pleasure and pain. Ally’s description of her first sexual encounter with Emily, all of its ‘foreign, awkward and wonderful’ atmosphere, is truly captivating, both visually and verbally. Her pseudo-relationship with this sex worker has become an escape from the reality where she is no longer a priority, the only aspect of her life where her desires are truly celebrated, and a means to self-knowledge she feels she must gain. In a beautiful moment of catharsis, Ally tells the audience: ‘I know who I am, and I can be the mum I want to be’.
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| Photo by Mihaela Bodlovic |
Yet Brodie undercuts this journey of self-discovery with the shocking revelation that Emily is straight, a reveal met with incredulous gasps from the audience. What seemed like a clear-cut story about the importance of self-knowledge becomes muddled. Ally’s experience has been one-sided, and, as Emily abandons her in a hotel room the moment her waters break, the fairytale that has become part of Ally’s identity is shattered. This could be a tragic turning point in the story, but Brodie does not allow it to be.
The arrival of Ally’s daughter, portrayed beautifully in the bed of cushions that have waited onstage the whole play, washes away the doubt and discomfort that has defined her life in the run-up to the birth. Jessica Hardwick’s portrayal of motherhood is mesmerising, an earth-shattering force that confirms Ally is exactly where she is meant to be. Her motherhood is capable of wiping clean the past and illuminating the future; she no longer worries about who she could have been, but who she is.
This is the wonderful thing about GUSH. Its themes of sacrifice and selfishness give way to a peaceful coexistence of truths. Ally is queer and married to a man, whom she loves. This queerness is not defined by action, but simply by its existence. She is generous at some times and selfish at others, and all of this is okay. GUSH is a powerful little play about the intersection of identity and motherhood, about what we sacrifice to become parents, and, more importantly, what we gain.
⭐⭐⭐⭐
GUSH has been commissioned by the Traverse Theatre to run in its Traverse 2 venue from Friday 10th to Saturday 25th April. Tickets are available from https://www.traverse.co.uk/whats-on/event/gush-spring-26
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| Photo by Mihaela Bodlovic |
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