There is a show floating around the Edinburgh Fringe this year that has gained an infamous reputation through the whispers of “An orgasm? Live on stage? Why?!”. “The reviewers all say this show is ‘pure wank’”, states Emma Maye Gibson at the beginning of her show Betty Grumble’s Enemies of Grooviness Eat Sh!t, but what she allows you to discover is something far more raw, vulnerable and hilarious than these reviews give her credit for.
In this show Gibson is not solely performing as her alter ego Betty Grumble, but as an authentic version of herself, presenting us with a personal performance of reclamation and empowerment through exploring her life experiences and traumas.
Gibson manages to blend comedy into her tales of violence and experiences with the court system. She channels her grief and pain into various primal performances, including a heavy metal rendition of ‘Don’t Cha’ by The Pussycat Dolls, the creation of special autographs with neon paint, and interacting with her musically talented and all-round-rad assistant “Craig Slist”. By immediately greeting us with nudity, Gibson desensitises us without dehumanising or objectifying herself, a very fragile line that she balances upon excellently.
The audience, armed with rhythmic rice shakers, is warmly embraced into Gibson’s universe as she creates space for healing in a spiritually charged room adorned with a giant vaginal tapestry. Whilst perhaps initially reminiscent of those individuals you hear calling themselves “London Creatives”, Gibson manages to keep her performance particularly grounded in truth and power, acknowledging the audiences lived experience, but emphasising that whatever journey you undergo as an audience member is separate to her healing process taking place on stage. Her performance is not only a true expression of the paradox of being a woman in the modern age, but an unfiltered account of release and self-identity.
The climax of her performance for me was when she spoke to individuals that have made a significant impact in her life, such as the late Palestinian poet Candy Royalle. After reciting a moving poem, the audience is flung back into the pantomime as Gibson launches herself around a slip-and-slide completely nude. Her final moments are hysterical as she defiantly stakes her claim to being an “eco-sexual sex clown”. Whilst one may leave with a smile plastered across their face, the message of the performance lingers and fashions a lasting impression. She explains and emphasises that her performance is not an act of revenge, but rather that of release. Gibson’s show is a unique blend of comedy, anguish and composting in which she gains release and healing from her performance. So yes, she has a wank on stage, but it isn’t sexual, it’s so much more than that, and it is an absolute must see.
Image provided by Assembly Festival to The Student as press.