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FringeReview UK 2025

The Mask Policy

The Mask Policy

Genre: Biographical Drama, Contemporary, Costume, Dark Comedy, Drama, Fringe Theatre, New Writing, Short Plays, Theatre

Venue: The Hen & Chickens, Islington

Festival:


Low Down

Where else would you see an aubergine in a pub theatre? A six-pack cast seems luxury casting too.  Tianjiao Tan’s The Mask Policy plays briefly at The Hen & Chickens, Islington directed by Yi Tang, and runs till December 8. Saturday’s another show but Sunday at 3.30 and Monday at 7.530 make for an unusual, and convenient way to see The Mask Policy during brief quiet times.

Tianjiao Tan’s crafted a unique, witty take on an industry with little exposure as it were. A revelation.

Review

“There has to be chemistry” Jasmine flirts with swipe-lefts for a while before hitting the perfect match. The adult film industry says yes, yes. No sex, just performance, says the strapline provocatively, and this is about producing, not acting, though there’s some very funny props. Where else would you see an aubergine in a pub theatre? A six-pack cast seems luxury casting too.  Tianjiao Tan’s The Mask Policy plays briefly at The Hen & Chickens, Islington  directed by Yi Tang, and runs till December 8. Saturday’s another show but Sunday at 3.30 and Monday at 7.530 make for an unusual, and convenient way to see The Mask Policy during brief quiet times. Perfect for busy reviewers.

For in the best possible way this seems a show with development written all over it. The Mask Policy comes equally with a huge creative team (see below). Tan clearly writes from experience, and the lead character Jade (Vero April Zhou)  with wry humour and controlled fury navigates cultural shibboleths that apply equally to those outside the industry. Though the particularly British mode of corporate affirmation and back-stabbing is merely the UK’s way of filtering late capitalism into your sleep. With added racial profiling. This is all about office and no orifices need exploring. Though fake cum (Lube bottles that won’t work, what else?) or a uniquely flaccid aubergine depending from limp-membered stars who starburst too soon are just cum things Jasmine navigates.

Mingchi Yan’s set centres on a desk and smartboards, with multiple props. That’s in addition to Yuyuan Wei’s costumes including two onesie suits in red and light turquoise donned by cast members as good and evil. The audience are handed Jasmine’s CV, are scurfed round with an array of laptop and office junk you find in the adult film industry. There’s snappy lighting from Xiaoran Luo. A lot rides on just three performances.

Jade’s the first employee of Yellowed to be recruited; can’t wait to meet the second. But she soon finds she’s last in a whirl of lead colleagues and HR (or Human Remains). Chief amongst these is blonde very British but of course a quarter-Taiwanese Crystal (Elizabeth Bell), glibly patronising and irresponsible. She’s as incompetent as she’s confident, as arrogant as she’s prone to throw catastrophes at Jasmine; then report her for going outside her brief to fix them.  Bell’s icily good at brittle connivance. Jasmine soon learns to package critiques in a British sandwich. Though Crystal will always fillet them out.

By this time you expect props. There’s a real sandwich with critical layer (a square paper fillet!) removed by Crystal as she bites on empty slices of bread instead. Crystal’s an exemplary study in stereotypical privilege, how a clever fillet of racial assumptions (cos-playing as part-Taiwanese) embed privilege in British industry: class, racialising, schooled entitlement. These count, not efficiency.

Efficiency that notices actors haven’t got back with their STI clearances, or back at all. Or that a film team is missing because Crystal blithely asserts her hand-picked directors bring the production package with them. On the other hand there’s literal insider tips to familiarise yourself with: at least Jasmine can practice all the ingenious sex positions illustrated in a chart, with her partner.

We’re introduced to a gallimaufry of characters, some multiple-roling. Christie Peto takes smiling Machiavel HR. Who Jasmine is reported to for covering up Crystal’s mistakes. Peto’s Crystal 2, all seraphic stiletto.  Peto’s also briefly a Colleague, Spanish Director, and memorably in turquoise a kind of Bad Angel out of Doctor Faustus: the Cold-light Spectre always in conjunction with the Warm-Light one. Peto pours psychic cold water and doubt. Say nothing, take it.

That’s in contrast to Jonas Feind’s excellent always toilet-bound Adrian, a colleague wibbling low-status as much as others play High. Despite cringing awkwardness (zipping himself in a fluster-fluff) Adrian proves far more adept; and as Warm-light Spectre, encouraging. Feind’s also the Colleague warning Jasmine to fillet her critical response. Feind relishes too a turn as a six-pack sex-pecked porn star with that aubergine moment; as Jasmine relates the pitfalls of flaccidity: a permanent peril of the industry. Did I say this was very funny? Stars are often premature people, or just not functioning. Feind plays pratfalls with exquisite energy.

Yan Wu enjoys brief energetic moments of his own as the oblivious impatient Boss who wants “Money…money” then “Money… money, position, reputation” when things go awry. He’s briefly a perambulating Colleague when all six cast members cavort in a conga. They’re joined here and elsewhere by Lizzie Sharpe as various Colleagues. In a 75-minute play (scheduled for 90, it’s proved snappier) this does seem an over-abundant use of resources. The play should use another 15 minutes to flesh out this wattage of actors; or a six-cast for three performances might be reduced to four at most. Though I’m assuming here there’s other plans and the play itself – engrossing, indeed capable of expansion and detail – might grow to make this more a necessity. Certainly with such creatives behind it, a six-pack might seem modest.

And the masks? You might have guessed. But in case, there’s a slew of Crystal-masks for Jasmine to don.

Tan’s crafted a unique, witty take on an industry with little exposure as it were. Jasmine’s story is lucid, well blocked, with adroit use of props (facetime meets a dance of empty-framed faces) and open-ended. Zhou is affecting as the superbly-coping Jasmine, briefly crushed by the sheer bullying and scapegoating she’s exposed to (a complete 100-point roll of “complaints” for instance). It’s a play well worth seeing. So digging even more deeply into the other characters, and showing even more what the industry does to everyone, from Jasmine down, would make it even finer. A revelation.

 

 

 

Creative Team

Writer – Tianjiao Tan
Director – Yi Tang
Set Designer – Mingchi Yan
Costume, Hair & Make-up Artist – Yuyuan Wei
Lighting Designer – Xiaoran Luo
Sound Editor – Jiaye Wang
Multimedia Designer – Shurong Liu
Music Contribution – Ruijun Peng
Script Consultant – Ziwen Gong

 

Production Team

Lead Producer – Tianjiao Tan
Producer – Ruoyang Xu
Executive Producer – Xiaoran Li
Production & Casting Assistant – Yutong Zhao
Stage Manager – Lulu Liu
Rehearsal Assistant – Lijia Huang
Assistant Stage Manager – Birong Ding
Marketing Support – Yiwei Shen
Digital Marketing Assistant – Yixin Zhang
Poster Designer – Zixuan Yang

 

Technical Team

Lighting Operator – Jiayi Guo
Props Manager – Yutong Zhao
Playback Operator – Jiaye Wang
Projection Operator – Tianyi He
Stage Assistant – Ruiya Ma
Hair & Make-up Artists – Yanru Liu, Andrea, Han Zhang
Dressers – Leah Nimitmongkol, Andrea

 

Showcase Team

Showcase Producer – Tianjiao Tan
Showcase Coordinator – Zhihui Wang, Yutong Zhao
Showcase Graphic Design & Marketing Support – Shan Zhai
Showcase Host – Ziwen Gong

 

Media Team

Production Photographer – Xinyu Lu, Yi Zhou
Costume Photographer – Xinyu Lu
Photographer Assistant – Yichun Ti
Documentary Filmmaker – Yi Zhou, Leo
Performance Videographer – Yi Zhou

 

Special Thanks

Hedda Hung (Early Administrative Support)
Xinyi Yuan (Rehearsal Space Support)

Published