Political message at heart of Gut Girls
Worthy tale of Victorian-era castoffs is full of black humour, but educational aspect might be a chore for some
What: Gut Girls Where: Phoenix Theatre, University of Victoria When: To Feb. 18 Rating: Three stars (out of five)
The utterances of slaughterhouse workers in Sarah Daniels’ drama Gut Girls seem like primal shouts and murmurs arising from the forgotten mists of Victorian England.
Working ankle-deep in the entrails of pigs, cows and sheep, these “gut girls” — young unfortunates in bloodied smocks — are appealingly feisty and crude. We soon realizes they are society’s castoffs, viewed as a mere notch or two above prostitutes.
As Daniels intends, while being horrified by their plight, we like and admire these girls. Mostly in their teens, they have virtually no chance in a grimly patriarchal society. The best they can hope for is a promotion to domestic service, presented here as another form of slavery. Daniels portrays the gut-girl subculture as a cross between Hieronymus Bosch and George Orwell — where innocents are ground up and spat out by a heartless society.
In the opening scene, a new hire almost faints when introduced to the gang, who cheerfully hack away at pieces of rubbery meat. These girls find black humour in their situation, joking about hands getting sliced off. When one later complains there’s no washing up or toilet facilities, another retorts: “You can’t have everything you want in life, girl.”
They seek fun wherever they can find it. They swill beer in grotty pubs and, rather touchingly, take pride in their garishly decorated hats. Their free time is eroded when Lady Helena, an upper-cruster bent on doing good works, browbeats them into going to her club, where they learn manners and domestic-help skills.
So is Gut Girls an enjoyable evening at the theatre? It’s something of a mixed bag.
Certainly it’s an educational experience. However, the playwright’s characterizations sometimes have a chess-piece quality. Daniels’ passion for the political ideas she presents reigns supreme.
This is admirable, but comes — to some degree — at the expense of story and character development. And with a whopping 12-person cast, it’s a challenge to make a deep emotional connection with any one character or single storyline.
Still, there are undeniably good things about this student production. It boasts an excellent set and worthwhile costumes. On Thursday night, the cast worked hard and showed signs of promise. Notables included Gillian McConnell as Lady Helena, Rachel Myers as her reluctant sidekick, Priscilla, and Emma Grabinsky, who brought a threedimensional quality to gut-girl Polly.
Perhaps because it’s a long play (two hours and 40 minutes, with intermission), director Alix Reynolds has opted for a brisk pace. This makes some sense, yet on this night, it led to a rat-a-tat delivery, especially in the first half. There was a sense of actors not only eagerly dispatching their lines, but forgetting to respond to what was being said to them.
In her first scene, Lady Helena appeared with her back to the audience. So did the gut girls later on, when listening to a lecture at Lady Helena’s “club.” It’s a curious directorial decision. One might argue that the thrust stage at the Phoenix’s Chief Dan George Theatre allows for such a choice, that at least some of us could see the actors’ faces.
However, one third of the audience (including me) could not.
Designer Laurin Kelsey’s set — with its hanging carcasses, tastefully bloodied floor, industrial lights and sliding barn doors (they flip to create a parlour) — is powerful and strangely attractive. Emma Bozoian and Clara Van Horn-Foy’s detailed costumes underscore the class differences in this play. The posh dresses, some of them whimsically decorative, broadcast the wearer’s status.
And so do the ugly formless coats and skirts worn by the slaughterhouse workers.