Are we watching a play? A therapy session? A play within a play?
Tit(s) for Tat opens with Rosie (Katie Suitor, who’s also the show’s writer), an actor, welcoming the audience.
Her friend Ruby (Eva Ceroni Marti) then pops in to ask why they have to do this at all. Answer – ‘because we’ve been rehearsing for five weeks!’ In this show, we soon realise, the fourth wall is a very flimsy curtain. Devices like this have the potential to go very wrong, especially in amateur productions, so it is to the credit of these young actors that they manage not only to pull this one off but also to use it as the basis for an entertaining and thought provoking show.
Rosie, Ruby, Lily (Alice Kellar), Danielle (Hannah Bunker) and Emily (Lucy Cowie) have been friends since year 7. Lately, though, their friendship seems to have gone awry. They’ve decided to consult a therapist to see if anything can be done. But back in the ‘real’ world they’ve forgotten to ask anyone to play that therapist. Don’t sit in the front row unless you enjoy a (tiny) bit of audience participation. And you also don’t mind being called Fanny.
Tit(s) for Tat switches between present day therapy sessions and trips back in time to shared moments in the women’s past. A simple easel is used to let us know which year we’re in and to signal the theme of each visit to the therapist. In a Fringe show there isn’t time for complicated scene shifts, so this is a clever way to deal with an issue that sometimes seem to challenge other productions.
Each member of the group is clearly defined; the actors do a good job of developing individual characters, and they’re all genuinely funny. Ditzy Lily, posh Danielle, people pleaser Emily, tough (or is she?) Ruby and drama queen Rosie are all types you probably know yourself. Danielle, with all her talk of yoga-pilates fusion classes, is straight out of Fulham, or possibly one of our smarter Scottish universities; you can certainly hear her accent all around the Old Town this month.
The play within the play turns out to be the last exercise set by the therapist; the women need to reenact the story of their friendship. Soon we’re back in 2017, it’s the last day of A-levels and they’re getting ready for their school prom; leg shaving panic, potential sex dilemmas, and alcohol (lots) all feature as the excitement mounts, but before we get to the party there’s another trip to the therapist. As the women discuss their collective past, they also review their current performance,
‘This makes me look weird!’
‘You were.’
‘Oh’
At one point the others question Rosie’s reenactment of an event. Memory is one of Tit(s) for Tat’s more serious themes; we all, sometimes unconsciously, rewrite the past, but does the curation our minds tend to impose create false truths that may adversely affect our current relationships? Do we sometimes bear grudges for imagined slights?
There’s not too much time to worry about that though, as we’re back to 2010, and the day on which the group first decided to be friends. They’re so thrilled by the idea that they dance to Kesha’s Die Young,
‘Let’s make the most of the night like we’re gonna die young’
And even those of us for whom this was a very long time ago (Roger Daltry, anyone?) are transported back to the days when an idea like that still felt romantic.
The dance scenes in Tit(s) for Tat are particularly entertaining; they’ve clearly been very well rehearsed and they’re funny. A deliberately comic dance scene could have been another potential minefield for a less competent cast, but this lot carry it off well. The girls’ rehearsal for the school talent show is particularly hilarious, capturing the way in which these things seem so very important at the time, and how quickly tempers can become frayed if some take them less seriously than others. Tantrums are rife and old boyfriend arguments are never far from the surface.
The show’s quick costume changes are smartly executed. As ‘The Urban Chicks’ the actors simply convert their school ties to headbands, and somehow even that’s funny; the cast shows just enough self-awareness to make the comedy work without letting it tip over into pastiche.
Given the opportunity to tell her personal story, Lily does perhaps become slightly too silly, but this is quickly sorted when Danielle jumps to a conclusion about where this meandering nonsense is leading. (Girls these days seem to do things with conkers that never crossed my generation’s 17 year-old minds. Or at least they didn’t cross mine…)
The show builds up to two big reveals, and again Katie Suitor’s writing manages to subvert our expectations without leaving us feeling manipulated. The tragedy we’re primed to expect isn’t quite what it seems, but another character reveals a dark secret, leading the women to realise that an event they thought salacious in 2017 looks quite different seen through an adult lens. Again we are asked to consider the value of memory; not only do we forget and rewrite experience, we need sometimes to reevaluate it in the light of maturity. Nothing can really be written on tablets of stone.
Nevertheless, Tit(s) for Tat ends on a high note, and the actors’ repeated inability to find their way out through the stage curtains becomes a running joke, whether or not it’s intentional.
Although Tit(s) for Tat is superficially about young women, both its jokes and its themes work well for anyone who’s ever been in one of those tricky, bitchy, but ultimately precious friendship groups. As Danielle says at the end of the final therapy session (which has involved an energetic slanging match),
‘Same time next week then?’
It takes more than a few dance missteps, or even a few boyfriend battles, to split up good friends.
Tit(s) for Tat was written by Katie Suitor. It is directed by Leo Clasen and produced by Eva Ceroni Marti. I also want to compliment Knockout Productions on having designed a decent flyer, one that for once provides useful information about the cast and full contact details. Other shows please take note.
Tit(s) for Tat is at Venue 39, theSpace on the Mile, at 1.05pm every day until 24th August. Tickets here. The show is considered suitable for anyone aged 14+.
