Lauren Steele’s new production pf monologues from rape victims, in conjunction with CUSU’s Women’s campaign, was never going to let its audience get away lightly. This play was emotionally overwhelming – no doubt – but its power resided the horror it invoked – the anger and the indignation. To her credit, I think this was what Steele, as both playwright and director, was trying to achieve. Rather than detail the exceptional, but arguably more theatrically dramatic, the punch of the plot was due to how ordinary and commonplace these forms of rape are – overpowered by a friend at a party, drugged on a night out, intimidated by your husband. All of this could happen to anybody and, as Steele makes it clear, it does. 

The Corpus Playroom made for an effective setting, just intimate enough to be uncomfortably aware of every flinch and grimace - nowhere to look away. Every performer was stark and exposed, a suitable setting for the baring of souls. The inclusion of film footage was an intriguing concept, depicting the experiences of the first speaker, Sephi (Katherine Soper), a teenage girl raped at a party. In the end, this didn’t actually contribute as much as it might have done, however. The blurry, rustling footage bore too striking a resemblance to an alcohol awareness video taken straight out of a secondary school, somewhat devaluing Soper's intelligent rendition.  (Although Soper seemed to veer slightly towards a stereotype of a distressed teenage girl at the beginning, her closing account of her self-blame for the subsequent collapse of her family transpired to be the most emotionally charged speech of the night.) That said, the final shot, which juddered around the bedroom to the sound of awful, heaving breathes, was powerful enough to make up for the rest.

The significance and nature of the content of Steele’s play was such that it would have shocked no matter the state of the performances. Nonetheless, all five members of the cast deserve attention and recognition. The most impressive performance of the night, however, was provided by Sophia Stanley’s Lucy; a housewife suffering panic attacks as a result of her husband’s abusive nature. Watching her perfect middle class, housewife composure fade into a woman with slumped shoulders, nervously massaging her chest and seeming to gasp for every word, only to rise up again in defiance during her final speech was mesmerising. 

The inclusion of an account of male rape, as recounted by James Evans, was a particularly important decision on the part of Steele. It certainly served to create a balanced and well-judged portrait, something that could easily have been the production's downfall. Steele’s writing held up to the task. Although there was a slightly dubious description of an orgasm as glitter, for the most part the dialogue was simple and realistic – it allowed the scenarios to speak loudest instead.

I think that most people left with a newly developed sense of duty and indignation to deal with the problems in our society. I, for one, have found myself looking up every article and documentary that Steele has carefully listed in the program. This was not simply a piece of art; this production is part of a much greater movement and in that capacity it was ultimately successful.

Did You Say No Though? plays at the Corpus Playroom at 9.30pm until Saturday