This show finished on Friday 04 October 2024, and this page is being kept for archival purposes only.
Thursday 03 October - Friday 04 October 2024
£8/6.50/5
Oh dear; we say things, we make choices, we go on with our lives. But what if that edgy and cynical teenagehood of yours had long jinxed you before entering the monstrosity of adulthood? It was probably a curse written in blood. Intoxicated Honeymoon is an untypical bildungsroman that presents exciting elements of artistry, friendships, sweet, yet haunting pasts, declines in mental health and self-fulfilling prophecies in an interspatial loop.
The EUTC presents: Intoxicated Honeymoon, an original play written by English Literature student, Victoria Ge.
Actor (Darcy) Meghna Banjan
Actor (Esther) Indie Slimmon
Actor (Felix) Jude Rogers
Actor (Nico) Tatiana Kacmarska
Actor (Rueben) Lucien Ngai
Actor (Zelda) Salma Balde
Co-Director/Script Editor Kayla Elnora Jones-Barbee
Co-Producer Alba McGowan
Co-Producer/Script Editor/Light Rigger Veronica Yung
Co-Tech Manager Zara Bathurst
Co-Tech Manager Cat Chapman
Intimacy and Fight Director Rebecca Mahar
Marketing Manager Zuzanna Soltykowska
Set Assistant Ava Ausman
Set Manager Louis Taylor
Stage Manager/Script Editor Azalea Drace
Tech Assistant Non Steel
Tech Assistant Cal Hind
Tech Assistant Lily Goodchild
Tech Assistant Bingqing Fu
Welfare Contact Fiona Connor
Writer/Co-Director Victoria Ge
Saturday 05 October - By Claire McArthur for A Young(ish) Perspective
A chilly October night in the Bedlam Theatre, the Edinburgh University Theatre Company presented “Intoxicated Honeymoon”, written and co-directed by Victoria Ge, an English Literature student at the University of Edinburgh.
Intoxicated Honeymoon pivots around Zelda (played by Salma Balde, in a bold and powerful performance) – a dramatic young woman who is contradictory bundle of idealism, and deep cynicism, drawn to a variety of toxic relationships. We delve into her relationship history, past and present. We see her current relationship with pained artist Darcy (Megna Banjan) come to a shattering conclusion, and we see her relationship with Esther (Indie Slimmon), her friend since school, seemingly crumble away – their shared romanticism of single motherhood lost. Through flashbacks, we see her friendship group of Esther, Felix (Jude Rodgers), Rueben (good natured Lucien Ngai), Nico (Tatiana Kacmarska) come to terms with the loss of a peer, and how grief doesn’t extinguish anger, all combined with adolescent self-indulgence, hedonism, choosing life, toxicity, academic prowess, loneliness, blood, and platonic and romantic heartbreak.
The relationships between the cast are almost claustrophobic in nature, and it’s easy to believe that the characters have grown up together. Of the characters themselves, they’re studied, and highly relatable, without being predictable. The predominant comic relief comes from Jude Rodgers’ Felix – maybe slightly too hammy at times, but provided some welcome giggles in the audience with his insufferably recognisable self-absorbed patter. Indie Slimmon’s Esther has a wistfulness and self-awareness to provide a strong contrast in their head-to-head conversation. Whilst the character of Darcy is one that comes later in Zelda’s life, this character felt a little less developed than the others, and left me curious about the background to their relationship, especially with Megna’s taut and wide-eyed portrayal.
The stage was set against a black graffiti’d background, with lighting (and blackouts) used to great effect throughout. Pre-show, we hear the curious, but turned out to be apt, combination of Abba’s “The Winner Takes It All”, and Green Day’s “Last Night On Earth”. During the performance, there was very little ambient noise on stage. This adds a confident sense of stillness to the performances, which doesn’t detract from them, but does mean every little sound from the audience is audible.
The performance closes with a short film, of Esther and Zelda, draped in white, waltzing in each others arms. Fittingly, it is Zelda and Esther who take the first bow together, cognisant of their strong bond, followed by the rest of the cast.
Victoria Ge’s work is fresh, daring, and ambitious, and is clearly an exciting talent for now, as well as the future. Rather than skirting around clichéd tropes, these are audaciously faced head-on, and the subject matter of intertwined female relationships between the past and present is one that deserves a wider stage. Tonight was the first of a two night run, and it would be intriguing to see how this play might evolve over a longer run. Some minor editing would take it comfortably into the length and format for an Edinburgh Fringe production, which might be a natural next step, and provide a showcase to a wider audience. Whatever the future holds, this highly accomplished offering proves Victoria’s name is one to watch.
Sunday 13 October - By Olivia Laughton for The Student
“No one can hurt me more than I can hurt myself.”
And it’s true and not true – as trivial arrogances of youth twist into adult guilt. Irrevocable change is done, and with it, irrevocable damage.
In flashes of past and future, we watch a group of petulant school friends grow up. Jolted navigations of guilt and grief hold the characters back, like puppeteers, defining their adolescence and lives beyond it. All circle around the electric and coruscating character of Zelda (Salma Balde) who is loved and loves in equal and destructive measures.
The structure is at times a little confusing, the brief yet deep flashes of characters which then throw us back or forwards in time overwhelms, but in doing so reflects the cloying persistence of the past, especially for Zelda. As the toxicity of adolescent love affairs becomes an unbreakable cycle, culminating in the small and grimy room of her honeymoon. We long for her to release these shackles of her past. The potential of this is shown in her ambiguous, yet undeniably beautiful relationship with the calmer, gentle Esther (Indie Slimmon). Using a projector at the very end of the performance, they represent an unfulfilled future, impossible, but rich with the potential of a different life.
Lighting is used brilliantly to change pace and perspective throughout. The stark contrasts of the warm, honey toned recollections of youth to a bright and sterile future where nothing is not exposed. Flashes of red violently contort death and life, whereas the oppositional blue deeply portrays words and feelings covered and unexpressed.
The pace of the performance quickens as it reaches its finale, the red lights grow stronger, blood stains splatter where once was clean, and everything seems to fall around us in sickening force. The rapacious cyclical strength of pressures beyond the characters control binds us to them, as they sink into self-fulfilled prophecies.
The contrasting calmness as we reflect on the failed potential of Zelda and Esther’s shared life is almost more disturbing than the tangible violence. It is painfully unactualized, as ultimately the calamitous and ravaging failures of doomed youth swallow life and love in a single dying scream.