by Noah Robinson, Third Year Law
A couple say what they’re afraid of. A group of men discuss the power of a haircut. Someone tries to craft the perfect ‘dating is me like…’ Hinge prompt. Someone else tries to tell their partner they want to be celibate. A woman learns that her younger brother is an incel. A couple try something different in the bedroom.
Following on from eightball productions’ debut play Flytrap, which enjoyed a sold-out run at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, disconnect captures the whirlwind of experiencing love, sex and relationships in the digital age. The script, written by Emma Morgan with dramaturgy by Iola King-Alleyne and Beccy Smart, is personal, witty and frankly candid. There’s a distinctive lyricism to Morgan’s prose which is well-delivered by a strong ensemble cast. The production is by Alice Fenton and Grace O’Sullivan.
Rather than having a distinctive plot, the play is composed of a series of interweaved, loosely connected vignettes. The influence of Caryl Churchill and Alice Birch is clear in its non-naturalistic structure. With no clear narrative to cling onto, Morgan’s craft is in guiding the audience through a carefully curated selection of glimpses, snatches and insights into the characters’ lives.
Some scenes cleverly repeat but swap the gender of the actors. What does it mean if a man asks a woman if she’s a feminist and not the other way round? Or if a woman, instead of a man, wants to keep seeing someone for sex but doesn’t want a relationship? It is in these moments where Morgan’s use of form is at its best – manipulative, bold and questioning. Subtle differences here between Evanthe Gee and Evan Moynihan’s performances point to the clear direction of Morgan and Dulcie Johnson.
Another standout is a deceptively simple moment where Lily Walker relays the questions on any standard medical form: name, date of birth, ethnicity, health conditions, sexual orientation. It strays close to performance art and is delicately captivating in its pertinent questioning of identity.
There are moments of bite and edge throughout – a beautifully delivered monologue by Gabby Adaway explores when someone becomes aware that their brother has been radicalised by misogynistic hate online. Later on, a resonating choral moment gives voice to the additional vigilance women bear in ensuring their safety when walking home at night. There’s a subtle urgency throughout.
Due to its form, at points we’re left wanting more. A duologue between Leo Russell and Rohan Chopra explores the ramifications of a partner suddenly wanting to be celibate. We get to this potentially destructive revelation but cut away too quick from the fallout. Maybe there’s something in it to be said about the internet’s grip on our attention.
disconnect is brilliantly self-aware. The play opens and closes with a person saying that they’re in a play called disconnect. They say it’s feminist. Another actor asks: ‘what makes it feminist?’
To which they get the reply: The writer’s a woman and it’s got an all-female production team and most of the cast are women.'
‘And the audience, they’ll be feminists too? What’s the point of it then?’
The answer is to learn. What that lesson is, is unclear. Maybe it’s something about ourselves, the world around us but all that matters really is that disconnect never spoon feeds us, the politics never conveniently used for plot. It’s gripping, arresting and most of all honest.
