News

There is a certain breed of contemporary writing that delights in being violently abstract, and creating dynamics that are otherworldly and surreal, in pursuit of some purified human emotion. Snap-Elastic’s Eat Me, directed by Eszter Marsalko and written by Luke Sutherland, is a rare performance that justifies using this dramatic and elusive style. Here, the themes are as extreme as the emotions on display.

A young woman, who comes to be known as “Prey” (Claire Eliza Willoughby), has always fantasised about being eaten. Literally eaten. When she meets her mysterious older neighbour, simply known as “The Man” (Ian Cameron), they form a bond and search for someone to eat her. Finally, enter “Predator” (Isy Sharman), and thus begins an emotional and complex journey of role-play, power, and unrequited love.

Willoughby comfortably combines her character’s childish innocence and playfulness, with the sincerity and obscenity of her desires. A kind of twisted Red Riding-hood; she is not oblivious to the extremity of her fantasy, but she imbues the character with a mesmerising confidence and self-possession. Sharman’s performance is calculating, slow, and deliberate. She plays Predator with a touching vulnerability that, rather than weakening her, only exacerbates her blood-lust. Their chemistry is incredibly powerful, and leads to a captivating showdown.

Secondary to their dynamic is “The Man”; an obsessive control freak upon whom Prey is initially dependent. As with all the roles, the character demands delicate handling, but Cameron’s performance comes off a little forced. It is hard to believe that a man who seems as frail and insecure as Cameron performs him is as manipulative and indispensable as the audience are meant to believe.

Nevertheless, he, Willoughby, and Sharman all impress by bringing the choreography of Christine Devaney to life. They slink and tiptoe and lurk about the stage, unsure about how to interact without a familiar language or etiquette to guide them. They are not only negotiating the power dynamics; they are forging them. As sophisticated as it is disturbing, Eat Me is a performance that sits with you like a heavy meal, and is all the better for it.