FringeReview UK 2025
Belly of the Beast
Clarisse Makundul Productions in association with Neil McPherson for the Finborough Theatre
Genre: Biographical Drama, Drama, Feminist Theatre, Fringe Film, LGBTQ+ Theatre, Mainstream Theatre, Political, Short Plays, Theatre
Venue: Finborough Theatre
Festival: FringeReview UK
Low Down
What’s school for? It’s like being some sub-atomic particle in the belly of the state. Mass or direction? How do you affirm queer and Black identity at the same time as the world won’t let you even choose a direction? And that’s twice over. Two selves, 30-year-old probationary teacher NowMartha and 16-year-old YoungMartha narrate two timelines that cross over and echo. Saana Sze’s debut play Belly of the Beast is directed at the Finborough by Dadiow Lin till February 1st.
Belly of the Beast should be a set text in schools. And should definitely tour there.
Review
What’s school for? It’s like being some sub-atomic particle in the belly of the state. Mass or direction? How do you affirm queer identity at the same time as the world won’t let you even choose a direction? And that’s twice over. Two selves, 30-year-old probationary teacher NowMartha and 16-year-old YoungMartha narrate two timelines that cross over and echo. Saana Sze’s debut play Belly of the Beast is directed at the Finborough by Dadiow Lin till February 1st.
This interrogation of not only the point, but even the harm of state-imposed schooling is given at one point a brief history lesson too. It’s an exciting, intimate start to Finborough’s new season and brought by the producer of One Who Wants to Cross in 2023.
This 95-minute two-hander enjoys Delyth Evans’ traverse split set (and costumes) with the narrative; as the actors rove across each other’s spaces. Two schoolrooms alike in bleak dignity, subtly reflecting late noughties and now, from flooring to smartboard and opposite, a sneaky laptop to peek at a teacher’s Facebook. Lit by Arnim Friess, with an envelope of alarming sound by Max Pappenheim including massed shouting, production values are handsome.
It’s play of enormous physical presence, despite the two actors not speaking directly to each other, though at points they almost seem to. NowMartha (Shiloh Coke) in particular frequently changes their clothing from a rail, surprisingly a more frequent resort than YoungMartha (Sam Bampoe-Parry making their professional debut), whose relationship with clothes is defined by their edgy relationship with rule-breaking Gia. And just occasionally they swap.
YoungMartha is defined too by the choices their exciting and also emerging gay friend Gia makes. Gia and brother YarYar are Muslim, and both Marthas find themselves in trouble for defending in one time another faith, and in another, a student Q who wishes to affirm their identity. Both times Martha is faced with ultimatums. There’s several intersectional points where being not just queer and Black but also defending the difference of others, brings a complex of racism, homophobia and transphobia.
In one sense the wild ride down to exclusion YoungMartha faces is going to end happily: otherwise NowMartha won’t be qualifying as a teacher. It’s been a long road though, as a writing and singing career haven’t brought a living. Their wife Claire is the rock you know they’ll need.
NowMartha comforts a trembling fellow-probationary teacher, is comforted and affirmed by ‘Mentor’ who helps NowMartha in protecting student Q’s non-binary identity. But then NowMartha hasn’t been clear about theirs and asks to be addressed by patronymic only. The calculated treachery of one person though means NowMartha is presented with an ultimatum.
Coke is both wry and alert. Narrating whilst in a flux of clothing, Coke brings the gravelly head teacher, panic-attack colleague, and reassuring ‘Mentor’ like vectors acting on someone who’s gone back to school again in more than one sense. Claire’s calm acts as a lodestar.
Meanwhile in Bampoe-Parry’s assured and many-voiced debut, YoungMartha shudders in the slipstream Gia makes beating up Sophie who’s insulted them, reluctantly accepts the gifts of a jacket Gia stole for them as a token of – is it love? When violence spatters YoungMartha in blood Gia coolly tells her they should have declared it’s period blood: no need to hide the shirt. Gia’s world is one of visceral thrill in fighting the world. YoungMartha, sometimes excited by them, isn’t the same.
YoungMarthas’s strongly Christian mother is both censorious and ultimately pleading. The teachers all attend the same church. That should count. YoungMartha must make a choice as finally Gia is confronted by people bigger than them. There’s a telling moment when two white students jump on their desks and YoungMartha and Gia are blamed. Even though the others decently confess their faults. Authority always pushes YoungMartha to confess, except as here, when confession isn’t welcome, and disrupts stereotypical demonising. Those scrapes with Gia too tick up against a student who wants none of this. No time to explore their burgeoning desires. One moment is fleetingly magical.
The peripeteia too is cleverly handled. YoungMartha at the nadir of their fortune narrates surprise. NowMartha though, shockingly betrayed, is treated almost as a student. NowMartha though in Coke’s quietly blistering delivery has a final essay to write for all the Misses of the world.
The Education Act of 1870 wasn’t passed to open up working-class minds, but to build a more efficient workforce. One might add previous attempts to block education, something that persisted in the British empire till the 1940s. The 1870 kick-off was really that year’s Franco-Prussian war when ordinary German soldiers could read maps and trash France.
Bampoe-Parry’s also a radiant presence: glinting with mischief, shocked in discovery and reversals of forum, their debut alone is worth cheering. Coke is sovereign. Bringing grief and resignation as well as shafts of wit, Coke refuses the easy ramp-up of rage and seethes in those moments that make you cheer. If inwardly. The blazing tirade at injustice, homophobia, transphobia and the “nonsense” head-teacher hisses with, needs teaching itself. Belly of the Beast makes a memorable start to Sze’s career. It should be a set text in schools. And should definitely tour there.
Casting Director Elizabeth Sweeney, Stage Manager Oli Fuller, Production Manager Christopher Corner
Production Photography Ali Wright, Production Videography Michael-David McKernan, Rehearsal Photography Elise Lusty
Presented by Clarisse Makundul Productions in association with Neil McPherson for the Finborough Theatre
General Manager Jillian Feuerstein, Assistant General Manager, Maddison Ambroise
Producers Clarisse Makundul, Neil McPherson
Saana Sze Belly of the Beast
Presented by Clarisse Makundul Productions in association with Neil McPherson for the Finborough Theatre