The Bunker 12 October – 5 November. Reviewed by Claire Roderick
Brand new venue The Bunker opens its first season with Isley Lynn’s award winning Skin A Cat. Based on Lynn’s own sexual experiences, this funny and heart-warming play takes a candid look at the life of Alana (Lydia Larson) and her quest to lose her virginity.
Beginning with her first period at nine, Alana relates her early experiences with boyfriends and her decision to lose her virginity on prom night – “We wanted it to be… American!” Lots of fumbling and awkward encounters follow until Alana finds ways to enjoy sex other than actual penetration. She finally seeks medical advice and is diagnosed with Vaginismus – a psycho-sexual condition where her muscles spasm painfully and prevent penetration. But Alana still can’t talk about her problem, instead only apologising to her partners, blaming herself and abstaining from sex. This all changes when she meets Geri, an older man who annoys her so much that she blurts out the truth. They start a relationship and his spiritual outlook enables Alana to relax and, finally, lose her virginity.
Lydia Larson is natural and fearless as Alana – equally convincing as a nine-year-old, teenager and adult. Her nuanced body language and fine comedy timing are fantastic to watch in a fine performance that carries the narrative seamlessly. Jessica Clark plays the women in Alana’s story with energy and a fine ear for accents. Her portrayal of Alana’s mother and her hysterically inept explanations of menstruation were reminiscent of Victoria Wood at her best. The male characters are played by Jassa Ahluwalia, boyish and innocent as Alana’s early boyfriends (with brilliant deadpan delivery of overly polite text messages and email breakups) and measured and mature as Geri.
Although the set is basically a bed, the play a conveyor belt of sex scenes and the writing is full of jokes about bums, flaps and willies, this isn’t a sexy show. Larson spends the night in flesh coloured support underwear and pop socks, and when Ahluwalia takes off his dungarees, he is wearing long johns. There is no titillation at all – the sex is stylised and funny, making Alana’s pain and seizures even more shocking and creating a roller coaster of emotions as the play veers from fantastic physical comedy to heart-breaking despair without warning.
Blythe Stewart’s able and sympathetic direction enables Lynn’s story to shine. The play delivers its message about there being many different ways to enjoy sex apart from what society tells us is “normal” without getting too tub thumping, and Alana’s final realisation that she has actually been happy as she is all along is written and performed with touching simplicity.
Skin A Cat is a great play – sweet, filthy, thought-provoking and very, very funny. This is a very promising start at this exciting new venue. Go and see this play – and take your teenage sons and daughters along – this is the sort of sex education they should be getting in school.