Babyteeth at the Belvoir

So I went and saw Babyteeth at the Belvoir Theatre last night, once again the lucky beneficiary of my friend’s Mum’s patronage of the Arts. Oh my. It was raw and gritty and all of those things, and the imagination had no work to do. And I mean none. Seated in the second front row, I saw more than I expected to see. No previous plays I have watched have come close for graphic portrayal. And there is a sense in which I find that something of a shame in live theatre, because one of the things I usually appreciate about theatre is the way it attempts to allude to things occurring, without necessarily having to show you (otherwise it becomes more like a movie, only shot in a very small space). I also did sit there thinking ‘I mustn’t get out much’ as much of what was portrayed was a way of living that is foreign to me, but then, perhaps the vast majority of people get more of their “experience” of others’ way of life from films, books etc, than from their own actual engagement with it, and that is one of the purposes of Art in the first place. So, now I know, more than I used to know. And that is most of the reason I appreciate going to see plays also.

Essentially it is a play about how badly, very badly, people cope with impending death and grief. There’s an agitation and anxiety pervading the characters that is wretched to watch. Then you come to realise that each of the characters is relying on drugs, in one way or another, in their various forms, to cope. Distressing. I also found the ending, or resolution, somewhat unsatisfying and rather cliché as it turned to watching clouds in the sky and the outlet of music as means of expressing grief and believing that life goes on in some form (and rather than the wife finding a way to relate to her husband in their mutual grief, she goes elsewhere to play her music – but perhaps that just added to the portrayal of how ineptly they found a way to come to terms with their situation and support each other). Similarly, it was rather predictable that the main character’s persistent left-over baby tooth falls out, then she has sex. It’s not something new to closely link ‘sexual awakening’ with ‘coming of age’ or growing up, and I’d actually appreciate seeing something more original and complex about all that is involved in the progress to adulthood.

Babyteeth was interesting and engaging, and I was pleased to see it, and the tears ran down my face, and I thought the acting was superb (those are brave people!) but I don’t know that I’d necessarily recommend this one. I have seen more thoughtful and nuanced treatments of similar ideas, without the actuality of it being quite so visually explicit (and my friend, who frequents a whole lot more plays than I do, was not so impressed).

(One thing I found curious about the evening was how disconcerted I felt by other members of the audience facing me. I did get really quite emotional in parts of the play, but rather than being at the movies, where  everyone is sitting in darkness facing the same direction and you are able to have your own personal and semi-private response, in these little semi-circle theatres there’s a public element to your expression and a kind of restrained embarrassment. In some ways it’s more of a communal event in that way, for good or bad. And you know what else, when the show was over and all the characters came out on stage to bow, I sat there with eyes shining looking at them all in appreciation, then realised, to my horror, that everyone else in the audience was clapping fervently, and I was sitting there in the second row, with my hands in my lap, not clapping. Not at all because I didn’t want to applaud the play or the acting, but just because I was otherwise lost in my own appreciation and that was not my instinctual way to show it, somewhat to my surprise. (Let that be a hint to those who think some of us are somehow repressed because we don’t raise our arms in church – when some things are simply not a means that comes naturally to some as a way of showing appreciation or expressing emotion. Though, having said that, I accept that when it comes to applause, it's a fairly basic cultural norm for appreciating a performance – what that says about arm elevation in church, I don't know.))