Not Really a Review of Credible Likeable Superstar Role Model

In which I find a difference between performance art and theatre, and family matters are discussed

I recently went to the Credible Likeable Superstar Role Model show by Bryony Kimmings in one of its last few performances, at the Soho Theatre. This is the show where Bryony Kimmings and her 9-year-old niece Taylor encounter the current media situation for young girls: the sexualisation of women in pop culture, the continuous onslaught of marketing messages and incidental exposure to violence and misogyny. After a terrified and terrifying reaction involving eye-gouging, [1] together they create a new popstar/palaeontologist, Catherine Bennett (performed by Kimmings), to be a better role model for girls. The show touches on themes of family, how to help young girls, and the meta-commentary on the development of this show and Taylor’s work with her aunt.

Expectations are Dangerous

I went to see CLSRM because, well, I will at least consider seeing whatever is recommended by all-round cultural influences Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer, whose live-on-twitter ever-loving marriage meanders back and forth across the line between envy-inducing and inspirational. Even though I don’t like everything they recommend, I will at least have analytical fun-times[2] working out why, so it’s pretty much always a net win. In this case other reviews were positive too: lots of people mentioned tears, laughter, wonderfulness, etc. And even though I don’t have kids, it still seemed like an interesting take on culture.

The thing is, I think the “kid is popstar’s manager” hook and the way people (other than Kimmings) were talking about it as “hilarious” made me expect, well, a theatre production - an Edinburgh Fringe comedy show about a fake popstar with inspirational feminist message. That’s not what this was. Bryony Kimmings herself says she is a performance artist, and what I experienced was a performer making art.

It’s hard to pin down the difference - theatre certainly contains art, too – but I think in a regular theatre show, the performers do stuff in the service of the show, of the story or atmosphere, whereas here the rest of the show was set up to facilitate the art of one performer, Bryony Kimmings. That’s not bad, but that theatre vs artist difference meant that the production was subtly different in aims from what I – and I suspect most of the audience – expected. The artistic control thing also means it felt like Kimmings’ niece was (lovingly, short-term, without harm) controlled. She was background, scenery, puppet – not because she’s a child or exploited innocent, but because anyone contributing to Kimmings’ art would be in the same position.

I would say CLSRM felt like a performance of (real) emotion, designed to elicit an emotional reaction in the audience.  It was manipulative in a provocative way – which is part of what art does, maybe. Going to theatre – especially comedy theatre – it feels like there’s more of a freedom as an audience to engage with the show and respond or not. In the best shows you feel like you’re a part of it, almost like the audience can make a difference by engaging. In contrast, with Bryony Kimmings’ performance it was directed at viewers – it didn’t seem to matter what we did because it was more one-way.  

This show isn’t being done again, but when I go to see more of Bryony Kimmings’ work – and I will, she is a unique voice – it will be to be exposed to an artist like, I dunno, Marina Abramović or Martin Creed. Not in terms of output, maybe, but with the same aims of manipulating an audience.

“But the play, Mrs Lincoln?” – or, OK, it wasn’t theatre but how was the art?

The performance as art absolutely worked – I may have resisted initially due to my theatrical expectations, but I responded. I did tear up at times, I did laugh, I did get angry at what young kids are being exposed to all the fucking time. I did not feel particularly inspired or hopeful at the end, this is a huge system-wide issue and one awareness-raising fake popstar is not enough.  But then, I don’t think I was meant to feel hopeful.

Most importantly for me, Kimmings vividly evoked that helpless, raging protectiveness you can feel for someone you’re responsible for, where you would stand up against the whole world for them. It made me think of not just what girls are experiencing now but of how I felt – and to some extent still feel, I’m not sure it ever goes away – about my youngest sibling, my 8-years-younger brother. He’s now in his 20s and I live on the other side of the world, and we’ve lost touch.  It’s been several months since I spoke with him or even had an email. I’ve tried, but…I don’t even know if he’s deliberately not replying to me, distracted, or just not checking that email address at all. I know from my parents that he’s alive and in Sydney - but that’s not really enough. We used to be close, he and I, even when I wasn’t living with the family. I always tried to protect him and introduce him to good things in the world,[3] and we used to talk a lot.

I think it’s likely we’re not alone in this distancing - that there are other families out there where gaps have opened up, where once-good relationships are allowed to wither through inaction, so gradually it takes a while to notice how it’s been weeks, and then months, and then you don’t really know how the other person is doing at all, nor how you’d find out.

After seeing CLSRM I woke up thinking about my brother and realised that it was time to stop pretending I was fine with my occasional emailing into the void. I’ve sent him a more open, genuine message: asking if anything is wrong, asking for contact, saying I miss him (which in our “let’s pretend everything is fine” family is unusual). I don’t plan on giving up this time – I’ll get his number, or find out which of the multiple skype addresses is actually live, and I’ll persist. I don’t know what will happen next, but I do know that my trying to change this is my response to CLSRM – I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, Bryony, but thank you.

Updated 8 July 2014. Mostly the same but I changed some of the words around and took out a summary of what actually happened on stage because I was totally bored when I tried to read back that bit so anybody else probably would be too. Blogs can be a work in progress, right? Archived version available.  

 [1] I had also seen two versions of King Lear in the past month. Though it featured sparkly red tinsel rather than real-looking blood, CLSRM's was not the least disturbing of the eye-gouging scenes. Also, anyone have any Equus or Oedipus going? I’m clearly on an eye-removal roll, here. 

[2] Analytical fun-times are the best sort of fun-times, kids!

[3] Like the first Harry Potter book, which I’m pretty sure converted him to reading more (and better) at just the age when many boys don’t.