Presented by Fishmarket Theatre Co
Review by Dominic Corr
theSpace@Niddry St: Tickets
There is no such thing as a guilty pleasure. It’s a derogatory term for the passion for something (usually a TV series, comic book or film) that one person pours their passion into while others might snort or raise their eyebrows. It’s a multi-billion pound industry; ask a Whovian, a Trekkie or a Potterhead. Without media fandoms, many pieces would have been lost to time and over the years it has become an increasingly lucrative engine. Shudder #NoBetaWeDieLikeMen is a tribute to fan culture, fanzines and self-produced material, reversing the infamous male gaze and instead focusing the narrative through a more playful female gaze and a heavy dose of queer theatre.
That’s right, folks; this is fan fiction territory. And not just any fan fiction, but slash fiction (google it, trust us, it’s safe).
An interplay between two time periods: the sixties and the peak of science fiction and the commercial success story of comics and nostalgia of today. Shudder openly and lovingly poking fun at science fiction fandoms and fan fiction through some excellent comedic and soulful performances and charting the steps we’ve taken and the steps back towards queer representation and acceptance in real-life relationships.
With audio clips and tight spandex, Shudder plunges into the fan fiction aspects with vigor and laughter as a young woman writes a secret piece of slash fiction (think fan fiction, but sexier). The narrative switches between the late sixties, when a group of suburban women gather around their favorite sci-fi show – mascot included. Although the humor increased, the existence of these clubs was very real, often hilariously capturing the enthusiasm of the entire cast.
Shudder also delves into the present day, as teens bond over a love of the old show and the unexplored storylines. The plot quickly shows (to both praise and blame) the differences in time frames and technologies, treading some familiar boards while capturing the admiration and joy that loving something can bring to those who need it most. Occasionally bittersweet and a little too saccharine and unfocused in capturing the nostalgic and nerdy with some clever staging and audio.
Enthusiastic, with a brilliant script that captures both the subject and the audience remarkably well, Shudder isn’t just for people with secret vices – it’s a wide-open offering to anyone who has loved something, or anyone who has felt a little “weird” compared to the rest of the world.
Review by Dominic Corr ([email protected])
Editor for Corr, damn itand freelance critic for Scottish publications. Dominic is a freelance writer for several established and respected publications such as BBC Radio Scotland, The List, The Skinny, Edinburgh Festival Magazine, The Reviews Hub, In a League of Their Own, And The short reviewFrom 2023 he will be a member of the Critics’ Award for Theatre Scotland (CATS) and member of the British film critics.
