Written by Sierra Sevilla (she/they)

Directed by Izzy Rabey

Review by Dominic Corr

Pleasance Courtyard – Beside: Tickets

When you think about the forced meat product Spam, the initial thoughts can tell you a lot about someone’s experiences: fritters, an unwieldy ingredient, email-hunk; or a foul and outright rank tinned item hidden in the cupboard. The last lot don’t know what they’re missing by the by.

But for entirely different cultures – Spam is an integral part of not only their diet but also their history and relationship with food and sometimes, the world around them. For Sierra Sevilla, growing up on the ‘liberated’ Guam meant that, quite often, Spam was the only meal they could have once the power had gone out, or it was the only thing provided by their American colonisers saviours following its transfer from Japan in Word War II. The island, with a rich and historic culture, is now built upon as early alert and strike systems into the East from America; now more a military outpost than home, Sevilla’s musical jaunt through their cultural heritage, and the lives of indigenous people, always finds a way to return to the forced meat product.

Here, eating the stuff is as much of an act of rebellion as it is a delicious treat; the warmth and energy Sevilla brings to their first Edinburgh Fringe sparks with that of a seasoned vet – someone more than familiar with the ‘vibe’ of the Fringe audiences, and the importance of establishing a fast and genuine connection. And inherently, this is For The Love of Spam’s greatest asset – it’s a charmingly conducted and produced show, with some canny, if occasionally clunky, use of space and direction from Izzy Rabey. Pleasantly at home in the Pleasance Courtyard, humour is a principal communication tool for the show – using knock-off Disney dolls, iconography, and plenty of physicality and choreography to get down to.

But there is severity. There is pain, and it’s communicated well – though it doesn’t lean into the audience with the weight it possesses, though certainly leaves an impact and imparts an initial understanding of a form of colonialism most audiences (particularly Scottish ones) likely aren’t familiar with. Sevilla’s spoken word and performance here are perhaps more impressive than their comedic talents (which they’re proficient in). Eloquently laying out the arguments of just what ‘foreign aid’ is and for the audience to take a keener interest in the how and why of its purpose demonstrates a form of oppression, a subtle and less obviously volatile one, for those looking in from the outside. If anything, the show can hit harder – its final fourteen minutes (you’ll understand the specifics) is an intellectual set-up for a climax, which should hit with a more substantial weight.

An exquisite storyteller who puts their entire heart into it all, Sevilla’s For the Love of Spam frames the conversations of colonialism through one of our most intimate cultural identities: our stomachs. Making for an intimate, humorous, and poignant show that re-frames the narrative of East vs West by the people of its culture, and those with the smaller, experienced voices, who have a real taste of life beyond the propaganda.

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