Work It Out review – staying fit drama delivers great results
Play writers are naturally drawn to the brain and heart. Rarely do plays better convey what it’s like to live in someone else’s body. Writer-performer Eve Steele achieves just that with all seven characters in this gripping, entertaining drama with political bite.
It helps that the setting is an exercise class, but in addition to aching joints and new injuries, Steele explores the physical effects of a range of long-term mental health issues and trauma that each participant brings to this drab community space. Effortlessly perky instructor Alice (Elizabeth Twells) leads the group and before any real dialogue takes place, the characterizations through movement begin: Eva Scott’s awkward Colette heads straight for the far wall, Dominic Coffey’s tapping Shaq crawls into his hoodie and Aaron McCusker’s candid Rab walks into the room. . Rebecca (Raffie Julien) wearily helps her despondent grandmother, Marie (Eithne Browne), and Alice unleashes an upbeat playlist of energetic songs.
As Alice goes through a rooster-like routine, this motley crew rocks up to Maroon 5 and firmly proves that they don’t have moves like Jagger. Steele plays late-arriving Siobhan, who brings a whirlwind of focused energy not to the exercises, but to getting her attendance sheet signed, as the class is part of her heroin addiction recovery program.
Steele’s play is divided into weekly chapters documenting growing tensions and unions, the short scenes resembling bursts of exercise. But the conventional structure and storyline are disrupted by heightened sequences that step out of the present moment. The most unexpected is when Colette takes center stage during a routine to Rihanna’s Jump, with the others becoming her backup dancers, and then touches Alice’s body in awe before putting her in a chokehold.
Memories are also shared individually, addressed directly to the audience, and this device is incorporated into the plot as the class’s funding is jeopardized and the group gives a presentation on what it means to them. They mention the personal challenges it has helped them overcome and the sequence could just as easily speak for the many community arts programs now threatened by City Council cuts.
Sarah Frankcom’s superbly acted production captures that peculiar mix of anonymity and intimacy that is recognizable in any fitness class. In scene after scene you see connections made: in one, Rebecca and Shaq talk via sign language, while Marie and Alice slowly rehearse a routine in the background.
Occasionally the script over-exaggerates and over-explains, both in personal and political terms, and the final minutes require a slight uplift. But Steele and the rest of the cast radiate vulnerability, the dialogue has a lot of resilience and this is an evening full of satisfaction, not least for Jennifer Jackson‘s stunning direction of movement.