Tackling Consent and Social Norms: Lipstick Review | Ellen Leslie
Image credit: V.L Emmerson
Content warning: this review contains references to sexual assault. If you require support, a list of organisations can be found on Zero Tolerance’s website.
★★★
The world as we know it is collapsing, and everyone is in search of a safe place. Neighbours Sam (Ell Stanton) and Mila (Angelina Nichols) are taking solace in their newfound friendship. When they confess their feelings for each other and talk about their dreams for the future, they finally feel hope. But the arrival of Joe (Zach Ballard), who feels extremely lonely and begs Mila for companionship, threatens to ruin their tentative happiness.
Despite the intriguing concept of Lipstick, the play falls flat. There is a lack of chemistry between the actors, which makes the whole play feel awkward. It doesn’t feel like they are committing to their roles for the whole show: some lines sound contrived, and emotions lack intensity. There are some emotional moments in there: the audience has lots of sympathy for Sam following Mila’s betrayal, for example, but this needs to be more consistent throughout the show.
Mila constantly changes her mind, which is the most frustrating thing about the play. One minute she is confessing her feelings for Sam, the next she rejects him to chase after Joe. Over the course of the show, she goes between them both four times, which is exhausting and excessive for a 40 minute play. Consequently, it is hard to take her seriously, and her anxieties about feeling isolated from other queer people fail to have the emotional impact that they should.
The show handles the topic of consent sensitively, effectively highlighting the responsibility that women feel. Watching Joe snuggle up to Mila despite her evident discomfort is repulsive. Afterwards, she laughs about it to Sam, minimising her pain and saying she isn’t good at saying no. Sam responds by telling her it’s not her fault, it’s his for not waiting to hear a yes. It’s a very powerful line that shifts the blame entirely onto Joe.
Joe is a very ambiguous character, and it’s not clear whether he is a friend or a foe. He seems willing to help, but also puts Sam down, insisting they would be safer if they were with a man. This is a powerful choice, highlighting that even “good” men can present a threat to women and other marginalised genders. Joe certainly sees himself as a good guy: he had sisters, he told Mila to communicate if he was overstepping boundaries, if she’d have said no, he’d have stopped. Yet his failure to apologise or take responsibility, instead blaming Sam and Mila for turning the situation into something it wasn’t, suggests otherwise. His childlike, yet terrifying reaction to being challenged highlights the fragility of masculinity.
Lipstick has lots of potential. The concept of a post-apocalyptic world where power imbalances don’t exist and people are free to be who they want, is a strong one that deserves to be explored further. It raises important discussions surrounding consent and societal norms, and I would love to see it be developed further.
Lipstick will be performed at Haldane Theatre – theSpace until 12 August as part of Edinburgh Fringe.
By Ellen Leslie
