Edinburgh Fringe 2024
Low Down
With razor-sharp writing and masterfully naturalistic acting, EBKM creates an awe-inspiring, cathartic performance on heartbreak and loss.
Review
“Who here is experiencing loss, grief, or heartbreak?” Karen McCracken’s soothing, low voice asks the audience. She hears us, not by prompting a verbal response, but by making eye contact with each and every person. By gently inviting our personal experiences into the space, New Zealand company EBKM creates a theatrical journey as cathartic as it is mesmerizing.
Karen stands before us in a suave suit on a plush carpet, the pink and lavender tones evoking a sense of comfort and familiarity. She plays the synth and sings to us, two new skills she’s been learning to distract herself from heartbreak. The slow chords and the gentle ease of her singing create an intimate experience, as if she were an old friend trying to cheer us up in the comfort of her own bedroom.
The synth continues as Karen begins to delve into the psychological aspects of loss, breaking down each stage as if guiding us through the stages of grief. Surrounding her are ten large LED panels, casting hypnotic lights that transport us from microscopic cells reacting to the physical effects of loss to the vastness of the stars above, filling us with awe.
Throughout each stage of loss, Karen interweaves scenes from her own story—oversharing her breakup on a first date, making tacos alone for the first time, and rediscovering herself while dancing in a club in Berlin. These scenes offer glimpses into her recovery process, giving just enough to keep us invested, and then skillfully tying all the threads together by the end.
While the breakup songs are endearingly cliché, the scenes themselves avoid all tropes. Karen’s writing here is razor sharp: scenes feel strikingly real and natural, and the breakdown on the physical effects of grief, while deeply rooted in science, pulls tightly at our heartstrings.
Heartbreak Hotel is a masterclass in effortless, exceptional acting. McCracken and Simon Leary look like a natural couple on stage, capturing the awkwardness of new relationships and the tension of resentment without ever slipping into cliché. Even with minimal sets and props and constantly shifting timelines, the relationship dynamics are clear as soon as a scene begins.
The first-person narrative element gives this story the essence of the classic “Fringe one-person show,” yet the use of closing the fourth wall for the two-hander scenes gives this performance an innovative edge. EBKM is a company to keep an eye on.
