Written by Imogen Stirling
Directed by Eve Nicol
As Imogen Stirling’s Starving puts it, many names exist as poorly edited Wikipedia entries: one of them is the campaigner for Scottish Independence, activist and artist Wendy Wood, who undertook (at just shy of 80) a hunger strike in the cause of Scottish Home Rule.
As the hallucinations of their fifth day on hunger strike begin to impact Wood in 1972, the isolation and insecurities of Freya, a young woman entering her thirties in 2024, have a similar influence on the modern-day PR worker. Crossing the boundaries of time, Wood finds themselves in Freya’s Edinburgh flat, returning to a spot where she stayed many years previously in this intriguing two-hander.
The boldness of playwright and poet Stirling is fiercely channelled through this latest piece, Starving. Structurally, this Play, A Pie, And a Pint show benefits enormously from Stirling’s experience with spoken word but doesn’t dictate the structure of the playwrighting or dialogue – coming together for a near-perfect blend of the two. Immediately, there’s a sense of the people behind the fears and the nationalism through a well-conceived and tightly written piece which embraces elements without coming across as an afternoon historical special.
Stirling’s insight speaks through their writing: as much as Starving is an empowering piece, it is unafraid to drive conflict and raise questions of method and confusion between two women in different periods of feminism and culture – though both still living under encroaching shadows of misogyny, ridicule, and oppressive powers. It does so with a clean pace and a refreshing rejection of exposition – things happen and occur with a sense of command and authority. Often exposition is wrapped up within moments (a compliment to the audience’s grasp of the plot) such as Wood’s discovery of Freya’s technology, enabling the plot and character to move forward with nuance and tight direction.
Where Freya struggles to grasp the extremeness of Wood’s actions for a political cause, Wood is equally put out and confused by a newer generation’s reluctance to leave the home after bolstering their achievements and exploits to Freya’s bemusement, but desire to hear more. Additionally, Stirling crafts the pair to be not without fault, as Stirling ensures they are not clad in unbreakable armour; Wood is intimidating in the alarming extent of their zealotism; Grieve’s Freya is tenable but a product of a shift in priorities.
With two excellent central performances from Isabella Jarrett as Wood, and Madeline Grieve as Freya, the pair’s chemistry is engaging and immediate, natural enough to reject feeling over-rehearsed or performative. There’s such an intensely authentic manner to Grieve’s role as Freya, the struggles with anxiety stoked, not least, by persistent online misogyny and escalating violence against women. It balances relatable humour, needed against Jarrett’s quality commanding performance of the space, keenly designed by Cathan McRoberts for a pop of colour that doesn’t distract.
As much a tribute to Scottish patriot and activist Wendy Wood (a name which deserves to be spoken louder), Starving is as equally a respectful nudge to the women of the now – those who live every day with the anxieties and pressures of the world surrounding them, often finding even existing as much of a burden as actively fighting for change. The flow between the two by the ending can be obvious, but it’s a minor misstep in an otherwise tightly constructed piece.
Starving concludes in a refreshingly direct manner; Nicol’s tight pacing keeps the production moving to this point at a flowing but forthcoming pace – letting nothing slip to the sides or offer distraction. Stirling has largely side-stepped the many traps and tropes which litter new texts, particularly ones within the PPP catalogue that feel the shorter runtime justifies them. Starving does something similar to what Love the Sinner did (and will do again with its upcoming tour), this time in a shorter format. It proves to Scottish (and wider) audiences that Stirling’s is a name to watch – if you weren’t already.
A Name to Watch
Starving runs at the Traverse Theatre until March 16th. Tuesday – Saturday at 13.00 pm.
Running time – Fifty minutes without interval.
Photo credit – Pamela Raith
Review by Dominic Corr
Editor for Corr Blimey, and a freelance critic for Scottish publications, Dominic has been writing freelance for several established and respected publications such as The Skinny, Edinburgh Festival Magazine, The Reviews Hub, In Their Own League The Wee Review and Edinburgh Guide. As of 2023, he is a panel member and judge of the Critic’s Award for Theatre Scotland and a member of the UK Film Critics.
contact@corrblimey.uk
