Bebe Cave’s one-woman theatrical comedy show opens with a recreation of John Everett Millais’ renowned masterpiece “Ophelia.” However, from the very first second, it is clear that Cave is not concerned with Millais or male artistry altogether, but with the female muse. Cave opens the show characterised as the painting’s real subject Elizabeth Siddal, exaggerated Scouse accent and all. After a sharply critical monologue, the audience starts learning the story of Siddal’s forgotten (definitely not fictional) sister, a homely barmaid named Bertrude. Like all Victorian young women, Bertrude dreams of becoming immortalised as a muse and symbol of docile femininity. Through the course of the hour, we see her bend over backwards to impress the newly formed pre-Raphaelite brotherhood, turning to desperate and bizarre measures to finally become an object of desire.
A one-woman powerhouse, Cave is manic and chaotic in the best conceivable way. Despite the seeming grandeur of the material, everything about the show feels visually homemade. In portraying the several complex historical figures, the actress-comedian wears many hats — literally, as the show features many ridiculous hat costumes, all very obviously crafted by the comedian herself. The diaristic approach to the narrative allows Cave to gradually fill in Bertrude’s silhouette with her own personal confessions; the comedian’s delivery and character work feeling simultaneously like the endearing ramblings of a teenage girl, and the chronicles of a woman in crisis. From the niche and sometimes bizarre references written into her script, to the whole conception of the show being the clear result of a personal fixation and knowledge of art history, to the amount of times she breaks to laugh at herself — Cave is delightfully and refreshingly passionate in her silliness. There isn’t a second where you don’t see how much joy the comedian takes in doing this show, and it is by far the most infectious and entertaining thing about it.
While the structure of the show embraces chaos, the commentary on the exploitation of the feminine image, and the objectifying male gaze is entirely direct and thoughtful. Cave brilliantly translates historical facts into a distinctly modern critical tone to present her ideas in a new and engaging way. The parody of the pre-Raphaelite brotherhood as a trio of performative male London creatives was hilarious both in invention and execution. The introduction of the young “hysteric” women scorned by male artistry, dripped with piercing commentary, with the comedian finally giving these figures a voice and a well-deserved spotlight.
In her satirical interrogation, Bebe Cave shows that you do not have to be the subject of a Victorian masterpiece, to relate to a struggle with romanticised standards created by the gaze of men. Through an array of perceptive observations, slapstick humour, and on-point pop culture references, Swoon paints the true portrait of what it means to be immortalised.
Swoon is running until 30 August in Jack Dome at Pleasance Dome.
Buy tickets here
Image courtesy of Sophie Holden, provided to The Student by The Pleasance for press use.
