Staff writer Sean Harvey reviews “Baggy Bra”, a silly comedy with an original, emotive plot. Spoilers ahead!
The Bridge House Theatre lives in SE20, near Penge West, a stop which props up the south end of the Overground line. We began our journey well over an hour before the show was set to begin, starting in E9 and trundling down the Overground’s orange canal, to the grey area where the city merges with the surrounding suburbia and the welcoming greenbelt. The theatre doubles as a gastropub and the atmosphere felt as if we had stopped in a much more rural area, like somewhere you’d find in the countryside in old English literature. It was warm and comforting and filled with pleasant chatter between families and friends, all of which seemed to have a dog accompanying them.
The actual theatre space was a room on the upstairs floor with two rows of seating arranged along three of its four walls, giving a large performance space in the middle. Two actors were already in the space as we arrived, interacting with audience members as they shuffled in with their drinks; some of whom were quite unaware that the thick Welsh-accented women were characters and not merely lost spectators. The middle-aged men they targeted for their conversation seemed surprised at the sudden change of topic to bra sizes and styles, although their partners were clearly amused.
The story of “Baggy Bra” itself focuses on the conflict of people’s aspirations set in a small town in Wales: Barb, the Bra shop owner, wants to retire; her daughter, Elle, habitually stuck in the same setting for too long, wants to leave without losing her connection to the place; and Ted, in a secret affair with Barb, wants to be helpful to her, but doesn’t really know how. The various customers who pass through the Bra Shop also have their own dreams, which range from opening gyms to having successful relationships, or simply being more comfortable in their lives. The play, which was originally 20 minutes long, having been written in a day by Izzy Searle for a competition in 2022, had now been turned into a full production with a 50-minute runtime. It had also since partnered with the “Against Breast Cancer” charity.
The plot was cliché but nonetheless entertaining. Having grown up in a small village, with half my family from Wales, it was easy to connect with – especially the theme of seemingly small problems and news being so significant to the characters. The constant threat of the mysterious “Developers” who ruin small businesses, as well as the difficulty of leaving home if you choose not to follow the conventional path of going to university, was portrayed poignantly with a large dose of silly humour. While each joke had a slightly predictable punchline, they made the characters seem all the more familiar. It felt as if you were a part of the little village yourself, relating to the feeling of when a family member or acquaintance keeps you on the edge of constant second-hand embarrassment; the characters were easy to like and easy to laugh at. Siân Parry-Williams provided the most laughs as Barb, although her story proved the saddest, when, as is the reality of small towns, her own aspirations failed to materialise, as she conceded them to help others. For a play with a simple premise and story, the ending felt almost too gut-wrenching: it was a bit too much reality to be smacked in the face with.
It was overall, however, incredibly enjoyable. An idea originally conceived and written in a day was not likely to focus on pretentious or slowly digestible concepts; instead, it produced something that was original, short and sweet.
“Baggy Bra” played at The Bridge House Theatre until 8 April 2022.
Second year International Development
