Sad-Vents by Eleanor Hill begins with the writer-performer standing in front of a livestream of herself giving us Trigger Warnings of what is to come so that we can prepare ourselves. She runs off a list: Suicide, masturbation, cannibalism, self-harm… She says it is okay for people to leave for a while if they feel anxious at any part of the show; a little respite and return. No one leaves. On the screen flashes two words: Dead Mum. Two words I could have done without as I will be burying my own mother in five days, writes Michael Holland.
Eleanor’s set is her room, a room that would make Tracey Emin run to a Premier Inn for safety. Around a bed with stained sheets are the accoutrements of depression and drug-induced debauchery, half-eaten fruit, half-empty bottles, drug paraphernalia, her exes heart in a bucket and her phone filming every waking moment of her sad existence for her online followers.
We first hear how her mum died while Eleanor was very young, and what follows is the fallout of that. The drink and drugs and ‘happy’ pills from the GP are the catalysts for an almost constant stream of consciousness. We witness Eleanor’s grief, her paranoia, her poor choice of men, her fear of dying, cancer, depression, anxiety, her low self-esteem… Sad-Vents is the equivalent of a lifetime of therapy force-fed into two hours – A tale of toxicity literally wrapped up in blood, sweat and tears.
Before long we realise that one of the main protagonists of Eleanor’s plight is Tony, a man she cannot stop loving despite the beatings and other forms of abuse. We are collectively happy when she finds a nice guy who treats her nicely, but she sabotages that relationship in order to return to her abuser.
This is a multi-media extravaganza that you can interact with online while it is happening; something that is encouraged. You can take photos to post on Twitter and Instagram. The audience can become part of the whole experience if they wish to.
Eleanor tells us that her play is 90% true, which works out at 90% of hell. But that is not because this is a bad play but because she bravely puts her heart and soul out there on that stage – and her life has been hell. She is reliving the pain of her past every night to create a never-ending cycle of torture and torment in front of a live audience and an online audience. At one point she turns the camera back on us. It was very uncomfortable knowing I was now being seen by thousands. I felt worse than a voyeur, more like a peeping tom.
Sad-Vents is not an easy watch. I would think that most men in the audience would actually see it as a comedy because her irreverent humour cuts right through the absolute despair of her situation; the piece about stalking her ex online was particularly funny, while women will see the tragic story that they know parts of from experience and can readily relate to.
The production may seem like one woman against the world but there is a whole team of creatives behind her, designing the video and set, directing and generally making sure all the tech stuff works.
My companion and I left knowing we had seen something very special. This was so real I was actually concerned about Eleanor’s wellbeing for a while until I understood that this play is one of the ways that help her recovery. And if it is not Eleanor’s real life being dissected in every performance, then she is an even better writer and performer than I thought.
White Bear Theatre, Kennington Lane, SE11 until June 25th 7pm. Admission: £16, £14.
Booking: whitebeartheatre.co.uk