Iris
The Sydney Fringe welcomes IRIS, a theatrical and creative piece that explores the downward spirals of Iris’s inner most thoughts in this one-person show. Through physical theatre, dance and monologue, Performer Michelle Fry and Director, Clementine de la Hunty dissects themes of guilt, despair and the acts of self-care that sends the audience members on a downwards spiral with Iris.
​
Presented by The Dead Fruit Theatre Co, Fry’s performance is thought-provoking and enthralling. We watch Iris question herself and whether she’s actually a bad person, presenting herself with existential and impending questions like, “how do you know if you’re a bad person?” or “how do you answer when someone asks you ‘who are you?’ – do you answer with your name, occupation, hobbies?”, or possibly my favourite question, “how do you know whether you’re just a sociopath who’s just really good at tricking themselves into thinking they have empathy?”
​
​
​
​
​
​
​
​
​
​
​
​
​​
​
​
Simultaneously hilarious and provocative – the questions Iris is asking herself translates so closely to the human experience and the questions I’m sure we have all asked ourselves at some point, and it had me on the edge of my seat.
There wasn’t an extravagant set; a white sheet hung up as a backdrop with a projector accompanied with a singular pen, journal and a few milk crates. Nor was there over-the-top costume – a simple pair of leggings and a shirt. This is what I loved about it and what I think translated so well that this is Iris’s raw spirals and thoughts – cause really, who’s spiralling and rotting in anything extravagant?
Although there wasn’t much, this isn’t to be mistaken for the space not being used creatively, thoroughly and in a thought-out manner. From propping milk crates to describe different sceneries and using the white backdrop and projector to visually display videos of another version of Iris talking to herself on stage. There was certainly no dead-space in this performance.
​
The backdrop was a creative field that projected Iris’s inner voice and translated her stories and spirals physically. One of the best uses of this backdrop was Fry’s use of dance and physical theatre. Where a projection of Fry dancing on the backdrop played with themself dancing as their own partner; it was an intimate dance with Iris and her thoughts, and the audience watches Iris’s thoughts and body flow symbiotically. At times, I thought this was the most impactful part of the piece – ironically the moment without any words is what really spoke to me.
​
Personally, one of the most memorable and relatable moments was Iris describing the self-obsession she grapples with on a day-to-day basis as she narrates her inability to fall asleep at night – she’s too enthralled with watching her life like she watches a TV; her highlights, the B-side of her existence, the deleted scenes and the alternate endings all engulf her. This was a leading moment that encapsulated Iris’s unembellished, honest and raw thoughts that truly spoke and connected the audience to Iris.
An hour has never felt so short – I was encapsulated with Fry’s performance and their ability to use a space so creatively. I always find there is an electric energy in the air of a Fringe show – whether it’s the friendship buzzing around, or the observation that all walks of life are coming to see this indie theatre – and IRIS wasn’t any different. I would definitely recommend seeing this before it ends!
​
Iris is on until the 21st September Sydney Fringe 2024.
​
​
