An engaging, effervescent one-woman play detailing the life of palliative care nurse “Flick”, the audience experiences a quirky, zany dark-comedy, with a surprisingly sharp emotional stab, when Flick’s kooky façade unravels.
Mark, a young, good-looking man, becomes Flick’s newest patient — an improvement from the harsh elderly woman who occupied the room beforehand —and when the opportunity arises, Flick indulges herself in a glimpse at an alternate life.
Contrasted with Flick’s hilarious insights into the everyday of her work, the audience is drip-fed more serious information about Flick’s life: her stilted interactions with her mother, layered in worry, her work college’s extra concerns for her, and her current inability to sleep, or even make her own bed. These fragments build to the audience’s understanding of her finding solace in Mark’s unoccupied house: clean, organised, and distinctly separate from her real life, a small favour extends into a place of refuge.
Madeliene Nunn’s performance as Flick is extraordinary; in her capable hands, we experience an enormous breadth of emotion. Charismatic, forward, likeable, she paces her characterisation incredibly well: at first fun, ebullient, she then uncovers multiple facets of Flick’s character, communicating her subtle disillusionment, or her untethered undertones to her decisions.
Despite Nunn’s brilliance, the creation of Flick’s character at earlier stages meant that it was difficult to fully identify with her, and there seemed to be (however purposeful) a constant push-pull of our sympathising with her. Actions like getting a key to Mark’s apartment cut — a difficult decision to support — and Flick’s lies to achieve this, inspired extreme levels of discomfort. Escalations to Flick living full-time at Mark’s, pushed the audience further away.
Nonetheless, the play’s emotional denouement is staggering: Flick reveals the unexpected and untimely death of her boyfriend, sobbing on the bench where they used to go running, and calling her mum to help her. Nunn’s raw, unrestrained, visceral expression of emotion was immense; as an audience member, it was impossible to do anything but feel her emotions with her. Puffy eyes and tear-struck faces were seen when leaving the theatre.
Flick seems to be an act of catharsis: a poignant exposé of grieving under the guise of a comedy. Hilarious, full of heart, and deeply visceral, Flick is the hidden gem of this year’s Fringe Festival.
Image by Darren Gill, provided to The Student as press material.