The Terrible Things I've Done

thewardrobetheatre.com

In a week filled with illness, cold weather and cough medicine that made me sneeze, there was no better drug than an evening at Chapter Arts Centre to infect innocent theatre-goers with my cold. The auditorium was a relaxed affair with cast members asking audience members to share their recollections of the terrible things they've done, assisted by audio recordings of confessions from corporate sackings to sibling arguments.

The floor was very much open and as the performance began, I was definitely ready for some dirt to be dished - and dished it was. 

There was infidelity, damaging photoshop exploits, an ungrateful birthday boy, a lost goodbye and many childhood maimings - including an impressive story involving a gatepost, a little boys thumb and his devilish older sister. There was a chilling story of two girls hitchhiking towards home in the company of a creepy but cunning older man. There were bickering colleagues, cat killers and prostitution. There were stories of abuse, of ex-lax and of extreme dietary (lack of) control - well who could blame them, that cake was irresistible?

www.asiw.com.uk

But the best thing about this lively mash-up of verbatim-esque brilliance, is that the theatre for the conversation is far bigger than the successful establishments it might entertain. The stories are endless, everyone has done something that they think is terrible. I once cut my mum's bathroom blind when I was angry, and water-bombed a boy's bedroom. I made up boyfriends and misjudged flings for friendships. I stole school books, skived lessons to play football - but as an adult, I struggle to find things I think are terrible.  Like, am I supposed to feel bad for cracking open a beer at 3pm? Or maybe for missing a social gathering? Because I don't, in the slightest - and that's about as terrible as I get. I've certainly got nothing on the kid that left their mate in the car boot for eight hours when he needed a wee.

youtube.com - The Spider in the Bath

*2 days after drafting this post, this is the best I can come up with... I once had a housemate with jet black hair who never cleaned his hair from the plughole - like for weeks, because that's how often he'd shower. One day, climbing up the wall in the shower, there was a spider - one of those small bodied, long legged types - so I washed it away and it got caught in the plughole and blended in with the hair. I could have got rid of it, but I waited instead for that blissful moment when he went to clean his hair out of the plug and was faced with the body of a spider. I mean I felt bad, a bit. But I think he deserved it after the amount of times I picked his hair out the plug *chokes on puke

What I love most about the production, aside from it's deliciously playful staging, is that it asks us all to share - it embraces the fact that we all have things we'd rather not share with suitors or potential employers. There's even a booth set up outside decorated with signage imploring that 'confession is good for the soul'. Here audience members are invited to cough up their deepest hidden horrors. And with that; the conversation is left wide open and the production is given the potential to simply grow and grow.

I really hope this isn't the end for the show, because given a nationwide tour - who knows what terrible things they might find? Maybe you could add to their collection?