Hen Ryan and Sadie Pearson are chatting in the corner of The Alexandra, a cozy sports pub nestled up next to Clapham Common station. The pair is two thirds of Full Frontal Theatre, the female power-throuple theatre company with a knack for touching a nerve – currently sans producer Grace, who was in Bristol on academic business. I was lucky enough to score an invite to their first London show last month alongside curator and staff writer Flora Guildford. She admitted to me after the curtain call that she had been a little nervous about taking her editor to see the performance, but it had been one of the best I had seen in months: To Watch a Man Eat at The Red Lion was a salivatingly good play about two men and one woman (as all the best plays are) navigating sex, class and diametric concepts of financial and emotional success. I even got to gush about the show for their social media, looking only slightly worse for wear after a four hour Eurostar trip and three glasses of Chardonnay. Naturally, therefore, I jumped at the opportunity to speak to writer Sadie and director Hen ahead of their next London show, Rodney Black: Who Cares? It’s Working, a deep dive into the world of stand-up comedy, celebrity culture, and the ethics of language.
Photography courtesy of Fetch London
We crack open the first bottle of Sepp Classic Style Grüner Veltliner (Kremstal, Austria, 2022, aromas of pear, kiwi, apricot and white spice) and I ask how Full Frontal came about. “On our final project that we worked on together at university,” Hen remembers, “I realised what an incredibly talented writer Sadie is and thought, wow, we could do something here with this.” Sadie adds, “We have similar vibes, similar things that we want to put on stage, similar things that we enjoy.” They started the company just over a year ago, scooping up producer Grace Shropshire along the way, and their first show was To Watch a Man Eat. It was massively well received in both Bristol and at Edinburgh Fringe, deemed “raw, honest and thought-provoking” by OffWestEnd and “genuinely thought-provoking and new” by the Wee Review.
We cheers to the success of the show, and get onto the subject of the trio’s name. “Because we formed around To Watch a Man Eat, which has sex scenes and some gorgeously choreographed wanking, we were looking for names that were provocative and that made no bones about showing things, or about uncomfortable feelings.” says Sadie. “So it’s less about nudity and sex and more about having unsavoury feelings or dark stories in a very full frontal, open way.”
And unsavory and dark the stories are: To Watch a Man Eat focused on perfect upper-middle class couple Melissa and Andrew and Northerner firefighter Micky. Melissa and Andrew’s relationship slowly starts to fall apart as they both try to climb their own respective social and corporate ladders, while Micky provides a running commentary. Motifs of sex, power and food run as a thoroughline throughout the performance, which was wickedly raunchy and deeply stimulating. I ask if there have been differences in the way audiences have reacted to these characters during their mini-tour of the UK. “There have been characters that have gone down a storm in different places,” says Sadie. “Bristol was our own community. At Shakespeare North Playhoused [in Prescot], Micky shone like a star. At Fringe, Melissa – the female vixen - really drew people in. But in London, it was Andrew; the metropolitan elite.” I note that there had been some Andrews sitting behind me at the performance I attended, right down to the chinos and gilets. “Oh yeah, there were a lot of investment bankers [at that show].” says Hen. “One of them came up and said, ‘I feel very seen’. I thought that was hilarious.”
Photography courtesy of Fetch London
The next play promises to speak to another modern male archetype: the stand-up comedian. Rodney Black: Who Cares? It’s Working, written for the Alpine Fellowship, starts its five day run on December the 17th at the Lion and Unicorn in Kentish Town. “I started writing it right around the time the scandals about Russell Brand started coming out in the news.” says Sadie. “The play isn’t about [Brand], but I was very interested in the idea of a comedy as an art form.” The play follows comedian Rodney Black on his rise to fame alongside his sharp, money-hungry manager who coaxes him down the path of controversy now so familiar to many straight, white men as get-big-quick schemes. Rodney’s performances increase in hostility until a fan re-enacts a particularly gratuitous joke about sexual violence.
“In theatre you’re given the luxury of having characters, and it’s very obvious that a character being portrayed on stage isn’t you.” explains Sadie. “Whereas with stand-up comedy, it’s a real blend of your personal life and of the character you’re putting on, and it can be hard to tell what’s true and what’s false.” I mention social media and bring up the fact that all of the stand-up comedians I see usually seem pretty vile because, naturally, the algorithm pushes content that gets people arguing in the comment section. “This culture of misogyny and politically rousing people, politically provoking an audience – that’s how people make careers now.” she nods. “They have audiences made of loyalists, who not only find them funny but are really loyal to their views.”
Photography courtesy of Fetch London
“It’s this whole idea of provoking controversial language and ideas,” adds Hen. “And about trying to understand whether these comedians that stand on stage and shout their little hearts out about all sorts of things truly believe what they say, or are they doing it for the audience aspect? That’s kind of what the play is trying to interrogate.”
At this point, I bury my head in my hands. “Girls, I don’t know if I’ll be able to watch this– the man I’ve just started seeing does stand-up comedy.” We commiseratingly refill our glasses and natter about him for a bit, before returning to the subject of language and culpability. Sadie’s submission essay to the Alpine Fellowship was on the ethics and responsibility of language in front of an audience. When I ask if Rodney Black provides an answer to the age-old question of what an artist's responsibility is to their audience is, Sadie smiles coyly. “That’s kind of what you have to decide.” she says. “When we got to rehearsals, we decided together to leave the ending more ambiguous.”
“The most important thing about theatre is when you walk away and you have to talk about it.” says Hen. “Because you’re not sure what you feel, or what your opinion is. I think our opinions came through too much, which is why we changed it. You want a debate in the bar afterwards.”
Photography courtesy of Fetch London
I ask if they think audience reaction will be divided by gender. “I think it’ll be a genderless discussion.” replies Hen. “It’ll be more about what people believe you can say. Obviously, we talk about ‘woke culture’ in the play. So I think there’s going to be a lot about that: some people will say we’re being too sensitive, other people will say they’re being right-wing fascists.”
Sadie adds, “It’s about freedom of speech. There are all these discussions of ‘in a democracy, you one thousand percent need freedom of speech, but to have freedom of speech you need limitations on freedom of speech’ – it’s a paradox. I think how people react will depend on where they fall on that scale, rather than a gender divide.”
Every joke in the play, I’m told, is based on actual jokes that real-life stand-up comedians have made. “I’m not a stand-up,” shrugs Sadie. “I’m not making totally fresh material. It’s all inspired. And because of that, I think it will be marmite to watch.”
Poster courtesy of Full Frontal Theatre
We continue talking about audiences and their role in the writing and directing process. “I don’t think you should go in [to a theatre] and feel like you’re watching a television screen.” says Sadie. “I don’t think you should feel disconnected from what you’re seeing. With fringe theatre, it’s easier for us to have more of a relationship with the audience because they’re right in front of us.” I ask if they fear this might be lost once they start making it to larger stages. “As a director it’s an exciting opportunity to do something different.” says Hen. “The dream is one day to be in the bigger theatres, I would love to manipulate that space and use it in a way that traditional plays don’t. The audience feeling like they’re involved in the action is so important to me.”
I ask what they hope audiences will end up taking away from Rodney Black. “We now have this desperation for something that’s going to shock us.” says Hen. “We’re constantly on the search for the next thing, that when you go and have a debrief with your girlfriends or your mates where you can go, ‘did you see that video? Do you hear what so-and-so said?’ It’s an unhealthy culture. That’s what Rodney Black is interrogating.”
“We’re bringing it to a human level.” says Sadie. “We’re saying, go ahead, do all of this – but what is the impact? What if you could really see it? We’re marrying a netherworld of social media, controversy and cancel culture.”
I totter home after a thoroughly insightful evening (and a few more glasses of Grüner), and almost by instinct I plug into my phone on the tube and start scrolling on Instagram. One of the first videos that pops up is of a balding thirty-something Scottish comedian at a basement comedy night in America. He was just calling a pair of female showgoers 'humourless cunts'. "Aye, ladies, dinnae get your knickers in a twist, the word is different where I'm from!" he cries. Beat. "We write it with a 'u'." Raucous laughter. I look up at the balding thirty-something man sat opposite me. Would he call me a cunt if the only thing separating us was a microphone stand? One thing's for certain: Rodney Black would, and I can't wait for it.
Down the Pub is an interview series by Fetch London, where we treat creatives to a few rounds at their local and chat about their art. If you and a group of friends would like to apply you may do so here.
