In this sweet and witty one-woman play, we follow fifteen or sixteen year-old girl, Ace, in her quest to win the attention of her crush from school, Sasha. As she tries to make sense of everything she’s been told she should, and will, feel when she falls in love, she reckons with her own queer identity. She’s been told she can be whoever she wants to be, love whoever she wants to love, as long as wants to have sex with them eventually… but what if she doesn’t want to?
Written and directed by Jonny Brace, That’s Ace is simple yet very effective in its staging, shifting between settings and conversations with a whole range of characters whom Ace meets along the way with lightness and ease. I thought that Brace’s slick direction made excellent use of the space and minimal props, utilising lighting changes (designed by Aimee Small) to successfully navigate Ace’s journey through disappointing sex-ed classes, awkward Catholic confessions and her first nightclub experience.
We are at once both in Ace’s mind, living (and therefore genuinely understanding) her bewilderment at the seemingly sex-obsessed world around her with her, but also getting to see her own miscommunications and clumsy interactions from other people’s perspectives as well. Moments that demonstrate that something about Ace is different, such as her assumption that someone “invented” the concept of sex, or her obsession with Doctor Who and his close relationships with his companions, are naturally woven into the storytelling, without feeling overly educational or didactic, and Brace’s representation of neurodiversity, asexuality and their intersections – a representation that is so necessary – never resorted to over-simplification or pandering, which I think could have been an easy pitfall here.
Tiffany Marina Pearmund plays Ace, and she handles the shifts of time and place with confidence, crafting an endearing young character with lovely detail in her gestures, facial expressions and little quirks. I never once doubted that this is a fifteen or sixteen year old girl. Pearmund’s thoughtful, sensitive presentation of Ace’s innocence, eagerness, defiance and even judgementalness, at times, created a believable characterisation that the audience can’t help but sympathise with, and find parts of themselves in, too. In the final scenes, her performance of the script’s exploration of romance in platonic relationships, and how friendship can be deeply loving and intimate, was moving and tender.
The trouble with making theatre about a topic which is so, so widely misunderstood and overlooked, and has such a massive lack of representation already existing across the arts and culture, is that a show about asexuality is almost inevitably spoiled from the start: the audience know they are coming to a show where compulsive sexuality will be questioned and, therefore, amongst such a void of similar stories on stage, it feels like there can really only be one outcome. I feel conflicted about my own sense of a lack of tension because I think That’s Ace does what it sets out to do. And it is important that audiences can access clear depictions of A-Spec experiences, when there is such a lack of knowledge. At times, I worried that That’s Ace overly conflates neurodiversity and asexuality, but it is true that there is a huge crossover within both communities, and it is not fair to criticise Ray Productions’ concept through a lack of ample and diverse alternatives elsewhere. However, I did find some moments of the play a little one-note and linear, and would have loved to see some more complex layers to its theatre-making. Perhaps a more complex sound design, or a bolder, possibly more abstract, use of movement, could have created a play that was more inventive and theatrically exciting.
Nonetheless, That’s Ace is a play full of heart and warmth, extremely well-acted with with beautiful storytelling. I would urge audiences in Edinburgh this month to go along to experience Ace’s journey of self-discovery, especially if you think you don’t know enough about the ace community.
Recommended Drink: A warming cup of hot chocolate would be nice. Ace may force herself to have vodka and coke in this play, but That’s Ace really calls for something for the soul.
You can watch That’s Ace at Just the Tonic at The Caves from 6-30 August (not 18) at 12:50 (1 hour). Tickets are available through the EdFringe Box Office.







































