Review: The Vagina Monologues

For those who heard the words The Vagina Monologues and did a prompt 180° at the prospect of such blatant discussion of vaginas (the horror!), I pity you. I could ramble for hours about the cultural importance of Eve Ensler’s work, a series of monologues ranging from the hilarious to the painfully honest on a variety of experiences associated with possessing a vagina. I could easily turn this into a statement on the significance of what it means to be a woman, but I won’t. This is a dramatic review. So I’ll ramble about the brilliance of the performance instead.

The strong comedic notes of the opening, from a list of all the ridiculous nicknames for vaginas to Emma Taylor’s skillful impression of a clipped German therapist, immediately set the tone for an artfully executed and emotionally intuitive production. The performance gradually moved on to more distressing topics, including those of rape and female genital mutilation, but the balance between light heartedness and striking, affronting accounts become the standout aspect of the production. It’s easy with jokes about sex and body image to cheapen what is being said, and with the more emotionally traumatic pieces it would have been tempting to overplay the tragedy. Yet director Sadie Hochfield and her cast did neither; the dark and the funny were presented openly and without embellishment, and for all its unashamedly brutal and stark discourse it was still an enjoyable and optimistic performance.

The standard of acting was astoundingly high, with each cast member creating a solidly defined, accessible persona within their monologues. Maggie Pancheva’s unapologetically brash performance of “The Woman Who Loved to Make Vaginas Happy”, about a female sex worker who only works with female clients, was testament both to her unfaltering talent and commitment to her role and to the dedication of the cast as a whole.

Elizabeth Stone had arguably the hardest and most harrowing task of the night as she performed “My Vagina was My Village”, drawn from testimonies of survivors of rape in Bosnia. Her performance was draining and resolute, and struck the most potent note of the evening. “Because He Liked to Look at It”, performed by Suzanna Johnston, was much lighter by comparison, but her deft switch between hilarity and vulnerability turned this monologue into an equally resonant one. The separate pieces were seamlessly woven together by Alex Campbell-Moffat’s introductions and Becca Shwarz’s sometimes comical, sometimes disturbingly grim “Vagina Facts”, meaning these separate stories became part of a much larger resounding narrative.

The choice to stage the piece in promenade, with the monologues alternating between four raised staging areas, paid off entirely. Miraculously, Venue 1 managed not to swallow the actors’ voices, and the decision to stage multiple monologues on one stage before moving to the next meant the audience settled in to the space rather than having to constantly fight for a view. Inviting the audience to sit on unused staging also meant the performance began to feel a lot more like an organic, involving discussion than a professionally executed piece of capital-T Theatre.

The Vagina Monologues was witty, heartfelt, poignant and about a thousand other adjectives. If you missed it, you definitely missed out.

The Vagina Monologues raised over £1000 for Fife Women’s Aid, in conjunction with the global V Day movement, which aims to combat violence against women and girls.