REVIEW: Screaming Into the Void, Piece of Work Theatre, EdFringe 2025 ★★★★

Put a finger down if one day you looked at the world around you and said there has to be another way – a better way.“

Have you ever wished you could make every unpalatable, imperfect facet of your life disappear? That you could have complete and total control over what parts of yourself the world is able to see? That you could be just like those girls you’ve seen on social media, pristine and powerful and perfect? Who among us hasn’t?

Kira Mason’s Screaming Into the Void is described as ‘an absurdist piece which explores the internet’s relentless grip on womanhood’. We meet four women (four representations of women, really) in the wide, empty Void, performing their terminal routine and creating countless Get Ready With Mes and Put a Finger Downs for consumption by an unseen but omnipresent audience, and watch as for the first time they begin to contemplate what life might be life beyond – beyond the Void, beyond the audience, beyond the idea of what they think they’re supposed to be in order to be correct and right and a proper woman.

All four Creators Formerly Known as Women are conceivable figures to be aspired to: a Clean Girl who’s managed to harness total control over every minute of her life and every function in her body; a Trad Wife who bakes with all-natural ingredients and enjoys the simple country pleasures of motherhood and marriage; a Divine Feminine Goddess who swears off men entirely, witchy and self-sufficient and smelling faintly of incense; a Relatable Queen who’s not like other girls but just like you. But fame and admiration is only one side of the coin, and soon we see the emptiness that each character is hiding, made manifest by the Void they find themselves unable to escape from.

Having seen sections of this play performed previously, I had wondered how the four characters might change from the initial scene, which is very focused on the Void’s inhabitants’ outward personas and doesn’t offer much indication of deep and significant growth, such is the nature of social media. But upon seeing the full thing I can confirm that Kira Mason’s writing and Clare Wootton’s direction capably handles the tricky dilemma of making four very rigid archetypes into breathing, screaming women with wants and needs, presenting us with characters who, despite their extremes of personality, we are still able to recognise parts of ourselves in.

Each cast member performs with finesse as their characters emerge (or are dragged) from their comment-fueled chrysalises into messy, disorienting three-dimensionality. Perky, neurotic Clean Girl, with her obsession for routine and absolute aversion to toxins or mess of any kind, is the character most immediately in danger of destroying herself, driven to near-breaking point by her own twelve-step skin routines, and despite Clean Girl being the hardest nut to crack, Eva Ellis, who is both hilarious and slightly terrifying in the role, does a great job of showing us the hairline fractures in Clean Girl’s exfoliated facade right from the off. Ellis also shows an impressive lack of fatigue playing a character who, to me, seems absolutely exhausting to maintain for the show’s hour-long duration.

Abi Price’s Divine Feminine Goddess is hysterical from the moment she opens her mouth (and her third (googly) eye), but what was equally impressive was the depth and sincerity she brought to the character as the play progressed. A bizarre, outspoken amalgamation of Gloria Steinem, Ms. Darbus, and that one clip of Cher saying “Mom, I am a rich man”, the DFG appears at first to be entirely assured of who she is – a queer, sexually liberated, moonwater-collecting misandrist, as well as a devout follower of the church of ‘There’s a crystal for that’ – and while Price had the audience eating out of the palm of her hand with her full-body lunges and comic timing, it was genuinely lovely to see her soften around the edges through her time with Trad Wife.

Speaking of which, Arlene McKay is very effective as the serene, drawling Trad Wife, a half-lobotomised homemaker who at the beginning of the piece would fit in nicely among the inhabitants of Stepford. McKay’s portrayal is layered and intentional, and the moment when she reveals her character’s motives for giving up a PhD and all personal desires to become a wife and mother – because the thought of never having to make a decision again felt just a little bit safer than having to fight to be heard for the rest of her life – left me with a genuine feeling of empathy (or at least, some level of understanding), for her real life inspirations.

Completing the set is Marnie Horne, whose Relatable Queen is far too down to earth and girl-next-door to have ever belonged in the Void to begin with, thank you very much. Horne is charming and bright even wearing a troll wig and fake nose. It’s tricky to bring nuance to a character who must be, by definition, universally relatable and attainably normal, but Horne does so with ease, connecting with the audience right from the off and gradually humanising her three new roommates (voidmates?) in turn.

Screaming Into the Void packs a lot of material into it’s one hour run time, and at times the pacing of the piece did feel a bit uneven – it wasn’t always entirely clear how the scenes connected, and I did feel as though it might have benefited from slightly smoother transitions, although big kudos must be given to Becca Hardy for some very effective soundscapes and wonderfully atmospheric lighting.

Overall, this was a humorous, insightful, and well-delivered piece of work (harr harr), and I hope that Kira Mason and Piece of Work will continue to develop the piece for future audiences, as it has a lot of very valuable things to say and might even work well in some kind of educational context (16+, of course).

Recommended Drink: A low-carb, no-fat, all-natural smoothie complete with kale and washing up liquid. Only joking – have whatever you want, and drink the whole bloody thing.

You can catch Screaming Into the Void every even day until the 22nd August at Space 3 at theSpace on the Mile from 15:15 (1 hour). Tickets are available through the EdFringe Online Box Office.