A brief review of a brief production. Bucking the trend of ninety-minute plays, this one is just over half that, and doesn’t need a minute longer to get its points across, and at the same time doesn’t feel hurried, with the sort of varied pacing that maintains interest from start to finish. There are moments of pure puzzlement in this somewhat absurdist play, which not only assumes no prior knowledge of the characters (who are not named in any event), but assumes no prior knowledge of – well, anything at all, such that there are attempts to describe what sexual intercourse is, amongst other things. In other moments the play goes at considerable speed – not in a demonstration of bedroom activity (this may be a crude show in some respects, but it’s not that crude), but in a game of tag, and in another, at a satirical description of how tired they are. That is, the dialogue was delivered with such energy that it was, in itself, at odds with a state of exhaustion.
The women do not always understand why certain things in the world are the way they are – and such is the rapidity of their learning curves that they shift from belly laughs to an attempt at comprehending why they are laughing, and whether they ought to laugh in the first place, to caving into the desire to laugh once more. There is, perhaps, a lesson here, for all people, to live in the moment and if you want to laugh, just laugh. Better than being miserable.
Not being able to retain everything they discover in their conscious memory first time around was entirely natural, and yet it was simultaneously amusing and more than a tad frustrating that some everyday concepts weren’t grasped by the characters straight away. The show is bookended with emergency sirens, underlining the sense of urgency that permeates the play as a whole. Some highly intriguing social commentary is unpacked in this dynamic and gripping show.
Review by Chris Omaweng
It’s absurd. It’s naked (not literally). It’s bloody (literally). It’s about women.
The Womb. This is a place where no one knows the address, but everyone knows how to get there. This is a place where no one knows what it is, but everyone is familiar with it. Maybe not everyone, but every woman. Women come here to forget. But can they forget the things that made them end up in this place?
A – Aylin Rodoplu
B – Tara McMillan
C – Gabriela Mahé
Written by Aylin Rodoplu
Directed by Elise Xiaqi Eriksen
THE WOMB
Arcola Theatre, 24 Ashwin Street, London E8 3DL
27 to 30 August 2025
