Woman of the Hour
Sophie Joske
The Butterfly Club
3 April 2019
The Butterfly Club
to 11 April
comedyfestival.com.au
Sophie Joske |
Last MICF, Sophie Joske was nominated for the Golden Gibbo , with Anna Piper Scott, for Almost Lesbians. She's back with Woman of the Hour: an original solo work (directed by Anna Lehmann Thomson) where she performers 35 characters.
She describes the show as "the demented love child of Grey Gardens and Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? raised by a queer feminist" – and I can't do better. Her queer feminist exploration of expectations of beauty, conformity and fame begins with a story about stardom.
Cassandra Barbitoll is an ageing star who's never not performing. With her silent-screen make-up, a velvet turban and a floral velvet day jacket, it's easy to imagine the stage as a black-and-white screen with a scratchy soundtrack. But Cassandra wears purple, green and red and never liked ideas that were back and white – even when she went along with them.
When she was Baby Sandy, being a star was easy; she was gorgeous and fitted all the artificial parameters of gorgeous. She became an advertising star and her mum taught her how to avoid gravity and crows feet from birth. Being pretty worked well for her, until puberty struck. But there are still parts for not-so-pretty women. And if you know you're a star, you KNOW you're a star.
Cassanda is every woman working in an industry that has loved her too much, hated her too much and been oblivious to her existence. She's the women who are put on pedestals and loved, or hated, for being something that they are not. And all the people who support them and knock them down along the way.
Woman of the Hour is a fresh and complex look at an ongoing issue. Structured and paced to let the laughs come easily, the genuine questioning of each laugh feels natural, all 35 characters are unforgettable, and I've never seen such an accurate and moving portrayal of facial hair facing imminent death.
She describes the show as "the demented love child of Grey Gardens and Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? raised by a queer feminist" – and I can't do better. Her queer feminist exploration of expectations of beauty, conformity and fame begins with a story about stardom.
Cassandra Barbitoll is an ageing star who's never not performing. With her silent-screen make-up, a velvet turban and a floral velvet day jacket, it's easy to imagine the stage as a black-and-white screen with a scratchy soundtrack. But Cassandra wears purple, green and red and never liked ideas that were back and white – even when she went along with them.
When she was Baby Sandy, being a star was easy; she was gorgeous and fitted all the artificial parameters of gorgeous. She became an advertising star and her mum taught her how to avoid gravity and crows feet from birth. Being pretty worked well for her, until puberty struck. But there are still parts for not-so-pretty women. And if you know you're a star, you KNOW you're a star.
Cassanda is every woman working in an industry that has loved her too much, hated her too much and been oblivious to her existence. She's the women who are put on pedestals and loved, or hated, for being something that they are not. And all the people who support them and knock them down along the way.
Woman of the Hour is a fresh and complex look at an ongoing issue. Structured and paced to let the laughs come easily, the genuine questioning of each laugh feels natural, all 35 characters are unforgettable, and I've never seen such an accurate and moving portrayal of facial hair facing imminent death.