imageBLURRED LINES is the title of a rap song by Robin Thicke. The producers of the play were not granted permission to use the music in their play.

I managed to grab a day seat for BLURRED LINES at The Shed at the National Theatre. It turned out to be the Press Night and I was sitting between two reviewers. We thought we had the equality thing licked in the 70’s, didn’t we? Not so…

To a backing track of several current rap songs, packed with mysogenistic lyrics, I watched the all female cast show us how it is for women of all ages, ethnicities, backgrounds, in this country in the 21st century. 100 years after the first suffragettes demanded women’s right to vote, nothing it seems has changed.

It’s not an easy watch. Patched together in a kaleidoscope of fragmented dialogue, snatches of songs and raw physicalisation, the action drags you along with little time to reflect, packing so much into 75 minutes you feel as if you’ve watched a 2 hour play. But there are moments that strike a chord, hit a raw nerve, show us something with which we can deeply empathise.

As the applause died away and the audience rose to leave, the two reviewers turned to me and asked me what I thought of the play. “Ask me next week when I’ve had time to assimilate” I replied.

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