‘Barely Human’, The Courtyard Theatre

‘Barely Human’ is currently showing at the Courtyard Theatre as part of the Camden Fringe Festival. Written by and starring Eva Voss, the play is a hybrid stand-up/cabaret/one woman show. Eva, fresh on probation from a female prison for good behaviour, has been advised by her therapist to channel her energies into creative outlets, as they believe this will be good for her rehabilitation process. So, alongside her probation officer, an accompanying pianist and a camera watching her every move, the audience observes as her solo Cabaret unfolds. The reasons for cabaret being her chosen artistic output are immediately clear - the play begins with her singing and vocally she is striking. Eva’s musical talents are truly outstanding and aide in anchoring this work towards authenticity - perhaps singing can provide the catharsis she needs to get her life back on track.

Her introductory song is in spades both entertaining and also intriguing as it hints at darker truths about Eva’s past to be later unveiled. It also successfully establishes Eva’s deteriorated sense of self - she evidently is at a stage where she feels ‘barely human’ and this is her path to redemption. In the song, Eva long for ‘a place to call my own, that you have never been’. The ‘you’ in this instance, at first seems like a partner she wishes to forget, but if you listen closely it could be referring to a part of Eva she wishes to banish or keep hidden. The first spoken line is equally as revelatory - ‘when the police found me with him’. Immediately the audience is dragged back from the ethereal nature of the song into the harsh reality of her actual situation. Eva claims this show is her ‘creating a new life’ for herself and obviously there’s a lot to be worked on on this front. It soon becomes harrowingly clear why she wants to leave her old life behind on. Early on, Eva says to her probation officer ‘we won’t talk about it’ - ‘it’, we assume, being the reason she was in prison in the first place. However, this does not change the fact that Eva is using this personal cabaret not only as a means of catharsis and release, but also as a vessel for talking through and oversharing. This is best illustrated in the many moments of interaction between Eva and her audience. She longs for friends, and is happy that people have turned up to see her, however, her means of engaging with the audience are at best self-centred, and at worst self-deprecating. It ranges from having audience members simply hold her bottle of chocolate milk for her (chocolate milk appears to be one of Eva’s coping mechanisms/a comfort tool), to having another pour a jug of water over her head. Her reasoning behind these odd interactions: ‘you’re going to be releasing my sins for me’, she states, and we are all, like it or not, complacent in what she calls her ‘rebirth ceremony’. Yet Eva’s attempts at connecting with her audience aren’t all tarnished - she also has us chime in with positive mantras and call out affirmations for her new life, and we are obviously providing a good dose of moral support. Indeed, many elements of the performance veer towards the heartening, but these brief moments of hope and positivity are largely overshadowed and swallowed, mostly by the looming sense of dread and shock horror as bit by Eva allows us to peer into her past.

In many ways, this is a largely makeshift cabaret. Yes, there are costume changes and songs a-plenty, as well as a host of genuinely funny comic segments. But on the whole it is very evident that just as Eva is, as she quotes: ‘building a life from fuck all’, she’s also doing the best she can with very little in this showcase. The staging is sparse - mostly it’s just her and the piano man. She changes multiple times but nothing really elaborate - she has to even ask the audience at certain point for items of clothing. Likewise, there aren’t really any props. She even has to use empty chocolate milk cartons to re-enact scenes from her family history. Although despite it mostly being just Eva and her mic on stage - this by no means detracts from the power of the spectacle. And yes that word very much fits - because this play is just so boldly intense. So whilst Eva lacks a lot of gear for her performance - there are a few things she most certainly doesn’t lack - and those are: a fantastic singing voice, excellent comic timing, a fantastic pianist - and, on a darker note - a ton of generational trauma. Like many women, she states, she has ‘the feminine urge’ to ‘carry the pain of…mother’s…grandmothers’. Relating her own troubling family history with the aid of those empty chocolate milk cartons, she traces a dark lineage - tarnished by war crimes, persecution, violence, and much sorrow. This has impacted her life to no end, imbuing her with a palpable fear of men and of the vulnerability of women in domestic situations. She by no means covers up the sense that she has a ‘screw (or two) loose’, but she does takes the very sane and admirable steps towards figuring out what has caused this ‘madness’ within her. It seems Eva’s fundamental ethos is ‘when the men come, set yourself on fire’. Indeed, at the drop of a hat, she can recall facts and statistics about domestic violence, violence against women - even her set list of songs corroborates this.  From a rumination on love turned to hate, to the selfishness of mankind, to a song that’s essentially Mrs. Claus having a dig at Santa Claus - her songs are all largely reflections on the power dynamics between men and women and how these have been historically, and still very much are, imbalanced and terrifying. Eva seems to have prescribed herself the duty of righting the wrongs done against her matriarchal lineage, healing this generational trauma. Given the horrors her family endured in the past it is perhaps understandable why she feels the need to take action - and she defends herself on this to no end. This does not take away from the fact that she is still largely under the power of men - i.e. her probation officer, her therapist, even her pianist, likewise, this does not detract from what is a genuinely terrifying revelation when Eva finally tells us the details of her crime, and this sent literal chills down my spine.

There is no relief at the end. Eva, worryingly, seems largely content with her actions and appears to believe in the justice of her actions. Things get worse, even, when she ends her cabaret stating ‘I did it for myself…and for all the women…and all the women before’. Then shifting to a darker note yet, she cries, ‘I did it for you, don’t you see?!’. Once again, it is unclear who is the ‘you’ she refers to. Is it us, her audience? Is it herself? Or is it this trauma inside Eva or even the madness within her? Ultimately, this is a tour de force of a play. Eva is a remarkable talent - from her genuine gift for humour, her immaculate singing voice, to her ability to delicately balance storytelling and subtlety with madness, darkness, and self-destruction. She also, at times , has the ability to be genuinely terrifying. Despite this play being minimal in many ways - Eva certainly has more than enough force, bravado and presence to carry it through.