Burning: A Bridge is the first production from Monstrous Nights Theatre, a collaboration between two artists: playwright Kimberley Dawkins and director John Dickinson.
The show tells the story of friends struggling to communicate as their lives and relationships begin to diverge. Jay, the adventurous yet insecure traveler, receives a job offer that will take her far from Clara, whose life is tied to commitments at home. Their story is told through an inventive theatrical device in broken Skype calls, and, in a wildly evocative way, through burlesque.
The mood was immediately set in the intimate space of the SAW Gallery, as theatre-lovers joined together with sloshing drinks and tones of smooth jazz piano under gentle LED light. A stage just a few metres wide divided the audience. Dawkins and Dickinson opened their show onstage, encouraging the continuation of the noise and vibes they were feeling.
“There’s nothing more awkward than taking your clothes off to silence . . . So please, keep it up!” urged Dickinson.
To start with, I was immediately hooked by the use of Skype. It is the snake person’s modern crutch for maintaining long-distance friendships, and Burning: A Bridge used it to tell theatre through a fresh yet familiar medium. The frustration of a dropped Skype call was well-executed through technical cues, and offered an inherent metaphor for Jay and Clara’s struggle to connect.
On a personal note, I saw this show with a friend who had just come to town. Until that day, I’d really only known her for the past five years through video chat—it made the emotion of the show deeply real to me, right from the opening cue of Skype’s readily-recognized ringtone.
If you’re trying to express the pain and frustration of a friend who’s starting to feel like a dropped call, why not do so through burlesque? Performers would take the stage following a character’s scene, using music and dance to illuminate their pain. Burning: A Bridge did a masterful job of portraying characters’ fears and motivations, building them up to then have them explode onto the audience in dance.
I can’t claim to be capable of experienced burlesque critique—this was the first time I’d ever seen it live. I suppose, from my novice perspective, all I can say is that it worked. I felt enthralled and affected watching the performers. The audience was energetic and contributed greatly to the sense of body-positivity and diversity in the room that I believe makes burlesque so important. And I do admit wholeheartedly to having a wide grin on my face during the entire ABBA portion.
The most striking scene was certainly the last, when burlesque met the performers onstage, as Jay and Clara held their final confrontation while a performer walked over glass. I found I wasn’t paying much attention to what the characters said to each other. I just heard the crunching of glass over the conversation and I understood.
Monstrous Nights Theatre’s first offering was a real treat, and not one I can soon forget. I look forward to the chance to see what they bring next.
