The Worst of Scottee

In a photobooth in a darkened theatre, English performer Scottee sits and tells us about his life. His hands flutter nervously, like caged birds, as he talks of growing up fat and gay on an English housing estate; of stealing from his grandmother; of falsely claiming to be HIV positive, and telling friends that his very-much-alive girlfriend had committed suicide. His gestures are focused and finessed, deliberate yet revealing – all part of this carefully staged, exquisitely directed and performed production.

Initially, The Worst of Scottee is a black comedy, and a striking one at that, as typified by an early sequence in which Scottee sings ‘Cry Me a River’ as oily black tears flood spectacularly down his pale face. Scottee’s tales are wrong, but enjoyably so; the sort of gormless adolescent adventures that we are all guilty of, and cheerfully admit to after a couple of drinks at a dinner party or at the pub.

Soon, however, the mood darkens; the confessional nature of Scottee’s performance is intensified and his stories become bleaker and more painful, even as the artifice of the production becomes more pronounced. The guiding hand of director Chris Goode thankfully ensures that the piece’s carefully controlled aesthetic – such as the use of video, which recalls the anonymity fuelling the worst of our online interactions – never overwhelms the intimate nature of the performance; instead, it serves as a highly effective counterpoint.

At its darkest, The Worst of Scottee provokes gasps of shock from the audience, and pained cries of sympathy and recognition, even as it stirs a powerful sense of empathy and sympathy among those watching the performance. As a work of drama, it doesn’t just create the illusion of emotion – it manifests it, tangibly and dramatically.

Remarkably honest, confronting and magnificent, The Worst of Scottee is Melbourne’s first must-see production for 2014.

Rating: 4 stars out of 5