The conundrum of what it means to embody the female experience is at the heart of Chris Bush’s humane new play. Otherland parallels the stories of two characters – one trans and one cis – who battle to take control of their bodies as they navigate the hypocrisies of a society riven with impossible expectations.
This is a deeply personal play for Chris Bush (writer of the Olivier Award-winning Standing at the Sky’s Edge) but the shift from naturalism to sci-fi and allegory in the second half clearly signposts it’s not autobiography.
Throughout, we occupy defining periods in the lives of biologist Harry (Fizz Sinclair – stoic, dignified) and plain-speaking, first-love Jo (Jade Anouka – bumptiously charismatic).
We first meet them on their idyllic wedding day, then fast-forward to the break-up. Four close friends of the couple comment, chorus-like, on their tribulations through dialogue that’s oft- times overstated as well as through wistful sea shanty songs by Jennifer Whyte.
And we soon learn that Jo’s sexual preference for women will not guarantee her continuing desire for Harry post-surgery. To cope with the split, Jo jets off on a hiking trip to Peru where she falls for goofy Gabby (Amanda Wilkin) while Harry faces the bureaucratic challenges of transitioning in a world where priority is given to which work toilet she’s designated and a GP is more likely to sign-off the transition if she dresses like a 1950s housewife.
When Jo agrees to have a child despite her long-held view that her body is her domain because Gabby can’t carry one herself, the process of sacrificing personal values for love is portrayed as both brave and troubling.
From warm-hearted naturalism, there’s a feverish tonal shift to a Victorian mermaid narrative as Harry is reborn in an on-stage pool, and poetic riffs on straddling the Greenwich meridian line and being everywhere at once flesh out the outsider theme.
Likewise, Jo’s incarnation as a pregnant cyborg, replete with metal tummy, is over-blown. Director Ann Yee embraces the extremes and designer Fly Davis’s wooden set serves as an appropriately spare backdrop, but the issues raised surrounding the opaqueness of language would be better served with a more delicate touch.
Otherland runs at Almeida Theatre Islington until March 15.
