They say that every tiny part of a hologram contains the whole image and that a single shard can be used to understand the whole. Ugly Sisters, currently showing at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, does a similar sort of thing with its opening scene.
On the face of it, the show tackles a brief scene from the life of feminist writer Germaine Greer, specifically on the day of the US publication of her required reading book, The Female Eunuch. She is then swiftly brought to her grave by ritualistic leaf-blower action, only to rise from her grave like some sort of modern Prometheus, though without Frankenstein-style bolts in her neck.
The show then repeats in the same vein, becoming noisier and weirder until it inevitably ends. Props are cleverly used and repeated, each item with its own meaning and theme. You will either applaud, delighted and enlightened, or simply leave, slightly confused. The entire show is a commentary on Germaine Greer’s outspoken views on Transgender rights. The 85-year-old second-wave feminist, whose significant works are now over fifty years old, is lovingly mocked throughout.
Astounding, experimental, avant-garde and nigh unwatchable, Ugly Sisters is the sort of show that you hope to see at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe simply because it is so different and unusual whilst being powerful and political. Staunchly queer and pro-human rights, this piece is as much a protest as it is a performance.
This is also its fatal flaw; as important as the subject matter is and as powerful as the performances are, this is an almost incoherent scream into the darkness. It is a rage-filled spear into the heart of modern bigotry, crammed with meaning and redolent with the sort of fury born of love. At the same time, it’s not fun, though absolutely a show you’ll be talking about for years to come. This is the sort of show that gets deconstructed by theatre students and academics but can be impenetrable to the rest of us.
This makes it a tough watch and one we recommend you do without a drink in hand (perhaps just a glass of water or two), as you will need a clear mind. There is a lot to take in, and it’s the sort of show that requires your full attention to drink in the subtlety (and lack thereof) of the performance.
This is a messy but highly calculated piece; statement art at its best, but perhaps one that will only be fun to watch for a handful of casual fringe fans. For the rest of us, it’s just a little bit too niche and specific to be worth the time.
You can book tickets for the Edinburgh Fringe show here, and find out about future shows here.
