By Joann Condon
(53two) Review by Josephine Galvin
The restrictions on rehearsal during the pandemic seems to have given birth to a growing number of one-woman shows. Traditionally based on the smaller circuits, they have now found a well-deserved place with more mainstream recognition. I have seen several over the last year and they have all been impressive. Little boxes is also excellent but, as is the first one I have seen that deals with the situations women find themselves in in middle age, it was even more enjoyable to me.
The set opens with various size cardboard boxes scattered over the stage. They are haphazardly arranged as a metaphor for the randomness of life as it happens to us. Joann initially talks about the boxes people assign to others; the characteristics that people adopt as they live up to their role as ‘the pretty one’ or ‘the clever one’. She also makes good points here about the restrictive boxes of gender – the gender reveal ceremonies that impose their own expectations. But she quickly moves on to examine the boxes she has found herself encased in throughout her own life.
Joann has a natural self-deprecating humour. There were many laugh out loud moments, and many scenarios that we recognise from our own lives. The tyranny of the primary parents evening being an excellent example. There was also a very funny – and somewhat brave – request for a member of the audience to help read a prepared script. The scenario involved conversations she had endured endless times at parties: the disbelief she encounters when she says she is an actress; the interrogation into her credibility, and the forensic examination of her roles to date. It was also humorous when she talked of the neighbour who could not accept her as an actress, for to him she remained firmly in the box marked ‘neighbour’.
As the play develops, more pathos and sadness creep in – which is usually reflective of our own maturing experiences. Joann’s sadnesses are all real. There is no huge drama, no exceptional tragedy and it is all the more powerful for this. There was a beautiful moment when, not long after she has lost her mum, she is 7 months pregnant and she finds herself crying helplessly in a shoe shop. The saddest moment for me, one that certainly brought tears, was when she taped up the ‘daughter box’. She was no-one’s daughter anymore. Beautifully done.
Two excellent points are made towards the end of the piece. The first is represented by a transparent box, and it highlights the invisibility of females between the ages of 50 and 70. Joann’s advice here is to take the opportunity to live exactly in the way that suits you as you have less requirement to conform if unseen The second is the responsibility she feels as a parent to encourage her two children to reject these boxes that society lays out for them. A large plastic sword is produced and she relishes the chance to wreck her set. She is left with the tiniest box; the box of her essential self.
An excellent evening’s entertainment. What is better than a chance to laugh and cry within the same hour? Well done, Joann for holding a mirror up to the lives of the older ‘everywoman’.
Josephine Galvin
