Writer: Helen Percival<\/b><\/p>\n
Director: Marcus Bazley<\/b>
Dressed in loose-fitting dungarees and her hair up in a messy bun, Helen Percival gives something of an air of a well-intentioned 1970s preschool TV presenter. It\u2019s an impression that is reinforced by her initial perkiness and manic energy.<\/p>\n
In a piece that explores a woman\u2019s place in the world, it\u2019s also about finding peace within one\u2019s own body. There\u2019s a duality within Percival\u2019s character \u2013 also called Helen \u2013 in which her outer body is eager to dance, Charleston-like, to the rhythms of onstage percussionist Manu Joste, while there\u2019s another part of her that is quite alright sitting on her chair, actually.<\/p>\n
Through a series of monologues, tone poems and, yes, more manic dancing, Percival doesn\u2019t so much deliver a narrative about a single woman\u2019s journey of self-discovery as present a series of disparate slices that invite us into some recognisably turbulent life events. There is a through line if one cares to follow one, but it\u2019s also possible to regard the show as a series of sketches.<\/p>\n
Thus we explore Helen\u2019s obsession with The Only Way is Essex, binging through 180 hours of fake tans and even faker drama; we experience the microaggression from a male partner who, having given her a box of chocolates when she had given up confectionery for Lent, guilt-shames her into breaking her otherwise successful fast; and, later, when back on the dating scene, we witness Helen\u2019s delight at being about to briefly talk about herself before her date interrupts.<\/p>\n
While some scenes joke about the interactions between men and women, there are also moments of stillness, even sadness, about Helen\u2019s life. A tale of a walk by the Regent\u2019s Canal, and sitting with two older people as she weeps, is indicative of the touching nature of Percival\u2019s storytelling. However, it is also indicative of the inconsequential feeling that often accompanies the end of many such anecdotes, trailing off into the start of another sketch.<\/p>\n
Billed at an hour long and lasting for nearly 15 minutes longer, there is a sense that the advertised running time might suit the piece better. As the concluding segments reveal a desire to share with the audience that in order to be ready to love others, you must first learn to love yourself, there is a sense that RuPaul\u2019s Drag Race ends each episode with the same sentiment, but more pithily expressed. Phoenix is about much more, to be sure, and is entertaining throughout, but it also feels a lot slighter than it believes itself to be.<\/p>\n
Reviewed on 4 July 2025<\/b>