Jake Mace
In small-town Scotland, it’s not just you who gets to decide who you are, but also the pressure cooker environment where rumours swirl and frivolous encounters spiral. Our nameless, spiky anti-hero just told a man choking on a Gobstopper to shut the fuck up, and as she floats around her small rural hometown we dive into her headstrong, reckless lifestyle that’s gotten her into more trouble than she can handle. SKELF’s highly original, potent gut-punch solo show about loneliness and hearsay hits every sarcastic, jagged note perfectly.
Leyla Aycan plays this sardonic character in a way that puts us as an audience constantly on edge – as she trips out of one conversation with another resident of the town she stumbles in front of a car and flips the driver off, before leaping gleefully into the local corner shop and ransacking the shelves into her shoulder bag. She is a character who is above all alone – the whole day we follow her she is excited for a meetup and gossip with her friend Fizz that inevitably falls through, and as she slips down a spiral of angst and much self-induced suffering, she begins to open up about her background, leaving us completely conflicted over how we should feel about who she is and the things she decides to do.
The worldbuilding in this piece is executed with an exquisite and palpable grunge and malaise. You can feel the all-too-comfortable, all-too-suffocating surrounds that our anti-hero has come to be defined by, even though she contrasts so starkly against them. She sticks out like a sore thumb to the point that everyone around her has begun to turn away – how much can she be blamed for it? It’s still a question I’m not sure how to answer, and there really is nothing better than a piece of theatre that leaves you chomping at the bit for more answers when the curtain falls.
As a devastating secret is revealed, we’re drawn into a heavy position of empathy for our central character – though she often seems flawed in her nihilistic approach to the world around her, she has been used by some, and neglected by others around her who should know better and who should do better for her. Aycan treads this line wonderfully. It’s all too easy when playing an angsty, misanthropic character for the performance to come across one note, but our character and the world around her are dutifully afforded a three-dimensional portrayal.
You cling to Aycan’s every word throughout the piece – wondering what absurd ploy this character is going to pull next. Sophie Michelle’s fluid direction style makes full use of the stage which becomes bus stop, corner shop, living room, and the suburban streets of this small town with ease. Aycan darts about the stage, and eventually into the audience for some greatly hysterical fourth-wall breaking moments, but what keeps you transfixed on the performance is how established this character is – from facial expressions down to the way she holds herself in a laid-back slouch and with a tense groan at every turn.
A bouncy, lively soundscape and surprisingly expansive use of the venue’s tiny lighting rig gives the whole piece a sense of flair that never drops for a second. Biting, zesty, and totally consuming – Gobstopper is a sucker-punch to the face you’ll find hard to not get lost in.
Recommended Drink: Pair this with a Gobstopper Cocktail – sour and sweet.
Performances of Gobstopper have now concluded at Prague Fringe 2025.
Freddie Haberfellner
Miriam Trujillo
Mike Dorey
