Eve Miller
Content Warnings: Body horror, violence, mutilation.
A shopkeeper, his patrons, and a stage full of second-hand semi-broken instruments, technology, and ornaments. One hour to pay the rent. In this one-man show, Will Oliver charts a course for utter dismay, as his shopkeeper tries and tries to keep up with the insatiable demands of his landlord, and his own desires to hoard.
Oliver portrays the shopkeeper with an unsettlingly resigned humour, as he explains his dire situation to the audience, his looming demise inevitable from the outset, and each step along his path to destruction darkly understandable to the audience. He ambitiously tackles portraying a horde of other characters, patrons of the shop including various insects, an inside-out horse, and a raspy cabaret performer.
He takes things from each of them, sometimes items, often sound effects that he loads into a loop pedal, to be returned to at the climax of the piece. He is reluctant to give away any of his things, opting to part with increasingly vital parts of his body when the inevitable rent call comes. This piece is a marvellously messy commentary on a variety of demands: the demands of capitalism, of family duty, and of the creation of art.
The design is remarkable, utilising secondhand props and costumes largely saved from landfill, that give the whole production a grimy atmosphere, with off-putting stains dimly hinting towards the grisly scenes sure to follow. While the severing of various body parts is not always seamless, it is always effective, with Oliver’s commitment carrying the performance even when the props don’t quite cooperate. The climax of the piece is slightly muddled, but Oliver’s vulnerability keeps the audience close, amounting to an affecting and haunting conclusion that hits you in the gut, even if it leaves you with a few questions.
Genuinely bizarre, worrying, and discomforting, you might want to tear your eyes away, but find that you can’t. An absurdist body-horror romp through late-stage capitalism, cult mentality, and exploitation of various kinds, For An Eye? is an ambitious and hair-raising hour of theatre.
Drink Recommendation: Absinthe, I reckon. You didn’t need that liver, did you?
Performances of For An Eye? have now concluded at Dundee Fringe 2025.
Jake Mace
Lamesha Ruddock
Jasmine Silk
