British people are socially awkward: this explains why we talk about the weather, queue compulsively and pretend to be polite. It is also at the heart of our television culture, anything from the mockumentary The Office to the spoof talk-show host Alan Partridge. As a tribute to the fictional Lynn Benfield, Partridge’s often put-upon assistant, and as way of asserting the value of women’s lives today, Laura Horton — an award-winning poet and playwright, and the first female Plymouth Laureate of Words 2021–23 — has written Lynn Faces. Originally staged in Edinburgh last year, this touring production is currently at London’s New Diorama Theatre.
Using the form of gig theatre, the event is presented as a one-off concert in which three women arrive on stage, each wearing a Lynn Benfield mask. It’s a surreal start to a show that is both anarchic and fun: the lead singer and guitarist is Leah, who is in marketing and about to turn 40 — she has an ongoing, but very unhappy, relationship with a guy called Pete; on the keyboards is Ali, a bar manager who is getting very tired of hearing all about Leah’s love life, while being unable to talk about her own; and then there’s Shonagh, a younger woman who works as a primary school teacher and plays a variety of instruments from the recorder to the tambourine. Later they are joined by Joy, the drummer.
Calling themselves Lynn Faces, a reference to the character’s capacity to produce a memorable scowl, the women perform a series of punk-rock songs, with deliberately, and occasionally funny, repetitive lyrics. Their subjects include snazzy cardigans (bought from thrift shops), and various explicitly sexual numbers, plus some that speak of their mistreatment by men. The general vibe is one of self-assertion, punk plain-speaking, but also occasional interruptions by dead-end conversations about the misery of Leah’s relationship with the controlling Pete. Some of these chats are excruciatingly awkward, and perhaps a bit overdone. But since the show is only 70 minutes long this scarcely matters.
Not much happens, except that Leah discovers one of Pete’s more recent secrets, and Joy the drummer finally arrives. In the meantime, there are some delightful moments, including a life-sized crocheted cow and Shonagh’s spirited recorder solos. The songs, such as “Kiss My Tits” and “Sex Fingers”, as well as declarations about telling your boss to shove “your Dictaphone up your arse”, offer in-yer-face surprises, while the episode in which the C-word is spoken 40 times (one for each of Leah’s years) nods towards the reclamation of that word in Eve Ensler’s The Vagina Monologues. At one point, the idea of coercive control in lesbian relationships delivers a shiver of danger, a potential provocation, but this soon passes. Instead there’s comedy, and audience participation in a game of “Pete or Partridge?”, when we have to guess whether an obnoxious sexist statement was spoken by the boyfriend or the fictional TV character.
Based on Horton’s own experience of coercive relationships, the play shows how a kind of Do-It-Yourself recovery is possible, by means of aggressive punk music and a little help from other women. But although the humour of social awkwardness rings true, the more serious material about men’s behaviour is never really explored. It’s almost as if this is a pre-show to a more profound play, where rage might be more focused and the complexities of abusive situations more thoroughly addressed. As it is, the characters here are able to liberate themselves from bad stuff only by fantasizing scenarios of revenge, which may be healing, or perhaps just another cage.
Co-commissioned by New Diorama Theatre, Norwich Theatre and Theatre Royal Plymouth, Lynn Faces is a slightly chaotic and beautifully silly event, which also features a series of projections in which random members of the public have been photographed doing imitations of Lynn’s famous grimace. The show is well directed by Jessica Daniels, designed by Tabitha Stock (who also made the huge cuddly cow), and has a memorable cast: Madeleine MacMahon as the troubled but determined Leah, Peyvand Sadeghian as the snarky Ali, Horton herself as the enigmatic Joy, and Millie Faraway making her stage debut as Shonagh. With music by Anna Wheatley this is a fun evening with a serious purpose.
- Lynn Faces is at the New Diorama Theatre until 1 March.
This post was written by the author in their personal capacity.The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not reflect the view of The Theatre Times, their staff or collaborators.
This post was written by Aleks Sierz.
The views expressed here belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect our views and opinions.
