Firstly, if you fancy reading some of my more grown-up thoughts about yesterday’s Dialogue session run by Jake and Maddy at BAC, there’s a long post taking in a bit of Immanuel Kant over at my new clever uni blog. I’ll keep things nice and lowbrow over here though, and let you know how I felt about (spoiler!) ALL THE VAGINA in Big Hits by Getinthebackofthevan.
I’m not sure how I feel about Big Hits. I feel a bit guilty for laughing so much. I’m in proper middle class anxiety territory. I swear it was REALLY FUNNY when the guy repeatedly punched the woman in the face while she was on her knees but when I write that down now it doesn’t feel quite so hilarious.
Basically, the whole thing starts off pretty daft. One woman sings Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen over and over while another woman dressed as a rabbit does interpretative actions. We’re told it’s helping us, as a very real and present audience, “lift ourselves up”. To be honest, it reminded me of some of my early twenties parties where you get all hyperactive with new exciting drugs and try to make yourself a dress out of your mate’s sister’s Argos wendy house. Lots of taking the piss and play-acting. Competing to be the most outrageous.
It gets darker and darker though. As the singer, Lucy, goes to greater lengths to bring out her ‘best’ performance, she beats herself up, then gets beaten, rolls a mechanical disco ball over her crotch, pretends her nipple is a doorbell, begs to be spanked, and finally gets on all fours to give us a pretty anatomical view of her fanny. And it was HONESTLY much funnier than that sounds.
I left feeling a bit vacant to be honest. A bit ashamed perhaps. While I howled with laughter at the time, as soon as it was all over I kinda just wanted to say to her that she didn’t need to do all that on our account. That the first time she sang that song it was perfectly good enough. That there was no need for all the abuse just so she could perform better. It was weird the way I switched from having a ball to feeling a bit apologetic. Like a weird post-sex feeling when you’ve just shagged someone a bit ropey. Like, “Aaah, this is… embarrassing. Do you want me to call you a taxi?”
If that’s the way they wanted us to feel, it really was a very clever show.