Morbidly fascinated by the concept of Crying at My Podiatrist — supposedly a darkly comedic body horror monologue centered around one rather infected toe — and perhaps drawn in because my own traumatic experiences have made the word ‘podiatrist’ synonymous with anxious feelings, I was rather excited to see this one. And certainly, it was not what I expected: a small stage adorned with some spangly, hospital-green fabric, a fabric that could also be seen wrapped around a small wheely podiatrist’s stool.
Making its debut at the Fringe, Crying at My Podiatrist is a solo show written and performed by Julia Atkin, an NYC-based actor, writer and director. The show’s central focus is on the various trials and tribulations faced upon discovering her toe had become infected. As a result of her medical struggles, she forms a therapeutic relationship with her podiatrist, who ultimately offers her a space to share her feelings and come to terms with various other challenges in her life.
Despite the focus on her toe — indeed, she fears that it has become her entire personality — there is a focus on pain of all kinds. Toe pain, loneliness, grief, pre-menstrual dysphoric disorder. Indeed, a small segment of the show involved an interactive rendition of ‘The Twelve Days of the Luteal Phase’ in which the various pains of the menstrual cycle were lamented in song-form. Most importantly, it discusses the pain that can be fought through, and learned from.
Atkin’s sharp writing is only amplified by her wonderful ability to perform stories in a conversational way that feels reminiscent of meeting a stranger at a bar and learning their whole life story. Such natural storytelling skills ensure there is never a dull moment. Upon witnessing Atkin’s cathartic tears at the end — which I would have thought to be a little dramatic, but surprisingly not at all in this case — the sincerity of her tears made it a feat not to let my own eyes become a little teary too, in solidarity perhaps, but also in recognition.
A zingy mixture of physical comedy, dark jokes and personal anecdotes that pull at your heartstrings, Crying at My Podiatrist addresses the struggles everyone faces in private, now brought out under the limelight in a gloriously funny, at times a little nauseating, poignant monologue.
Crying at My Podiatrist is running until 30 August at Paradise in Augustines. Buy tickets here.
Image by Shea Peterson, provided to The Student as press material.
