Reviewed by Paul Treasure
One of the hazards of regularly reviewing theatre is that you are often sent to see shows that you know absolutely nothing about and that all you have to go on is what the publicity says. You cannot help but form a few preconceived notions about what you are going to see. Sometimes these ideas are borne out, and sometimes your ideas are totally wrong. Often, when you see a show where a single creative is listed as doing almost everything: writing, directing, starring, set design, sound design, composing; you steel yourself for what could easily end up being a painfully self-indulgent and self-important piece of garbage. On paper, this is what Broken Toy could easily have been. In real life, or perhaps I should say in unreal life, Broken Toy is none of these things. It is a wonderful, vibrant, joyous celebration of the complexities of life, created by a ridiculously talented and unbelievably charismatic performer.
The story follows the character of Pigtails, played by chief creative Mia Slayford, as she negotiates the world. Pigtails was a vivacious and creative little girl, until about the age of eight, when Society’s conventional expectations started to weigh her down and attempt to crush her spirit. Very early on in the show she is whisked off to Planet Pop, a magical planet where people are allowed to be their most unconventional selves free from care. However, the rulers of Planet Pop decide that Pigtails cannot stay there because she needs to process her many problems before she can return. The concept is cute, and I mean that in the most sincere usage of the word. There is a genuine naïveté to the show that makes it truly engaging and allows it to tackle its deeper themes without feeling in any way preachy or overly self-important.
The show itself takes the form of a suite of original songs with very brief linking narratives. The songs, written by Slayford herself, cover a wide range of styles, and each one is clever, tuneful, and memorable. There are many new musicals with forgettable scores where the audience comes out humming the set change, there is no danger of this being a problem with Broken Toy, as this reviewer and his guest were still humming some of the songs hours later. I do not know whether Slayford wrote the songs first and compiled the show around them, or whether she came up with the concept and then wrote the songs to fit. Either way, the ordering and placement of the songs were impeccably chosen, the differences in mood and style perfectly complementing where we were in the overall scheme of the story.
The character of Pigtails is a delightful creation. The broken toy of the title is performed with charming playfulness by Slayford, with an almost constant twinkle in her eye that draws the audience in. Even in the darkest moments of the story, we are never made to feel sorry for Pigtails, instead, we are invited to look at ourselves at the same time and recognise that Pigtail’s trials and tribulations are things we all share. As Pigtails herself says: “Fuck Toxic Positivity!”, the show isn’t about sunshine and roses, but it is very much about how if we work through and evaluate ourselves, we can learn to live with our problems and work through them to a place of acceptance. Slayford herself is an absolute powerhouse. Singing and dancing at high energy throughout the whole hour, and embuing each of her songs with authentic emotion. Slayford is a powerhouse, and it is almost impossible to take your eyes off her the entire time.
She shares the stage with a group of four backup dancers, who also play different facets of Pigtail's brain. The choreography, by Shenae White, is upbeat, energetic and very clever, and her fellow dancers: Chloe Marlow, Cameron Etherington, and Saffyre Armour totally understand and deliver the brief. Too often dancers can look too much like they are ‘dancing’, they know the choreography and are moving their bodies accordingly. Never do we feel that with these dancers. The choreography is performed impeccably, but it feels spontaneous and natural like they are making it up on the spot. This is a difficult line to tread and is a credit to White’s skill as a choreographer that it never feels forced or rehearsed, and an immense credit to the emotional intelligence of the other dancers that they both understand and complement the emotion of whatever the song is about.
If there has to be one downside to the production it would be the lighting, but the Kaos Room with its severe lighting limitations does not do anyone any favours, so that is certainly not something that can be laid at the feet of the production. The sound design, however, was amazing. Too often with a show using any sort of pop music, it is tempting to just set the levels at 11 and forget them. Slayford and her fellow composer and sound designer, Boyd Wilson, have paid attention to the show and the space and come up with a very subtle design, balancing the different needs of each song and section with beautiful precision and sensitivity, elevating the whole production just that little bit more.
This entire production came as a totally unexpected gift to the audience. It is memorable, it is moving, it is full of energy and life. It is a production and a show that deserves to have legs, and I hope Slayford and her team manage to revive it in the future and take Pigtails’ story to other cities. It has a score that is worthy of recording, and that this reviewer would willingly purchase and listen to again and again (even though very few of the songs are to his own musical taste). It is a show that absolutely deserves huge audiences, and if given the chance will probably end up with something of a following. If you can make one of the remaining performances, I strongly recommend you catch this quirky and totally out-of-the-box little show.
Reviewer Note: Tickets for this review were provided by the theatre company.
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