Mess is uncontrollable, frightening but also horribly realistic. This play, written by Caroline Horton, unflinchingly embraces one young woman’s experience trying to control and master her anxieties and fears through anorexia nervosa. 

Horton plays Josephine, a former sufferer of the disorder. She is accompanied by Boris (Emily Goddard) and the musical accompaniment and sound effects of Sistahl (Seiriol Davies). The play is self-referential and metatextual, the three performers commenting on the piece throughout and presenting each chapter of Josephine’s journey with anorexia in an episodic manner. They often interrupt each other to comment on their parts, such as when Josephine is in hospital frustrated with the regimented treatment she is receiving; she hates that she has lost control and freedom in her life.  Sistahl appropriately interrupts her saying: “You are performing a great scene but I can do better”, going on to perform a hilariously crazy monologue reflecting Josephine’s inner feelings. The self-consciousness of the play creates an open atmosphere, inviting the audience to engage with the exploration of anorexia happening on stage.

The humour is balanced well with the grittier and more emotional moments.  Davies provides hilarious, and delightfully weird, voice-overs and atmospheric music that balances emotion with comedy. When Josephine and Boris are at the beach, Sistahl provides the blustery wind noises and crashing waves and starts to create dolphin noises, until Josephine snaps: “There are no dolphins!” as the audience cracks up laughing. However, a moment later Sistahl provides tense music, as we see Josephine hesitate before eating an ice cream while Boris watches on nervously.  The music cleverly reflects the audience’s desire for Josephine to eat and to get better.

Horton and co. explore various facets of anorexia. However, it is the ending that strikes home with the audience, and encapsulates the metatextual quality of the play.  Josephine does not want to perform an ending for the audience, as she thinks it would imply that there is an end to the disorder. This reflective moment is poignant, reminding the audience to leave the theatre remembering the longevity of the struggle that sufferers encounter. 

Anorexia nervosa is presented on a human and honest level, through the candidness about the possibilities of recovery.  The laughter does not mock or trivialise, but rather opens up the disorder, encouraging dialogue and overall providing a hopeful message to both sufferers and their loved ones.