Shed: Exploded View - an important emotional cacophony
The garden shed is a repository for all of life’s messy gubbins; it is a physical embodiment of our life’s journey. Explode that shed and you’ll face an asynchronous, tangled, and overwhelming sensory overload of memories and mementos. This is what Phoebe Eclair-Powell’s award-winning script offers us. Shed: Exploded View is an examination of all of life, all at once.
The production follows three women and their partners as they navigate life, loss, and abuse. These three parallel narratives intersect at powerful moments, whilst the narrative arc jumps back and forth in time throughout.
The absence of a linear narrative transforms a fairly simple plot into an intensive character study. As we watch, the cast blend universal shared experiences with specific, personal encounters. Hayley Carmichael is well-placed as the wise soothsayer who weaves between the narratives and who has seen it all before.
At the centre of this story are depictions of domestic abuse. Purposefully downplayed, unspoken and implied, but no less striking than a physical interaction played before us. Three male characters shape the story, each with the propensity to be the story’s central abuser. At first it is unclear which direction we can expect each character’s development to take; the audience walk on eggshells alongside the female cast members.
Lizzy Watts, as Naomi, is the beating heart of the production. Naomi transforms from struggling newlywed to passionately protective mother, and back again – via some charmingly British moments of observational comedy. Her final monologue is gut-wrenching. Yet, like any mum, she can’t resist a couple of jibes at ‘your generation’: a welcome dash of lightness to offset the undeniable weight of the show.
Alongside her on-stage mother, Norah Lopez Holden gives a standout performance as Abi. Despite the stylised dramaturgy, Abi is incredibly relatable and immediately draws the audience into each scene that she appears in.
A physical refrain to Britney’s iconic Hit Me Baby allows the mother and daughter to transcend time and space, punctuating the show with a fraught representation of their unspoken turmoil. (Thankfully, this motion sequence is better placed than the early full-cast ensemble piece that stands rather at odds with the rest of the show.) Other recurring moments are scattered throughout. With each smashed glass, the audience holds their breath, as stage lights create a captivating moment of synaesthesia. These refrains work well to centre the explosion of emotions on a magnetic core.
The set design, by Naomi Dawson, is inspired. The titular shed opens the show, but the concentric circles of the spinning stage steal the spotlight, serving as a wonderfully metaphorical foundation for the action. Just as the narrative clock spins forwards and backwards, and the plot comes full circle, the revolving stage maximises the full dramatic potential of a production in the round.
Overall, Powell’s script is incredibly well-crafted. At first the clever overlaps and choral speaking feel a little laboured but, as the cast fall into their collective rhythm, the intelligent, nuanced interactions sing. Within the carefully crafted structure, this play really does attempt to address every possible outcome of human existence. In doing so, there are inevitably some storylines which are left as slightly shallow tangents to the core. Yet, as sound bites are scrawled across the set throughout, every interaction becomes another valuable memory snippet. It’s powerful to see a visual representation of how microaggressions compile and connect to become something huge.
Shed: Exploded View plays at the Royal Exchange Theatre in Manchester until 2nd March. For tickets and more information, visit the RX Theatre website.
Importantly, the production team have created aftercare resources for anyone affected personally by the themes within the show.
For more insight into what you can expect from Royal Exchange productions, read our historical theatre reviews.
Photo credit: Johan Persson