Review: Otuz Bir, Venue 13

I’m all for taking wild leaps of faith when selecting what shows to review. That was certainly how I found myself at Venue 13 for a second time for Otuz Bir. The reason? Nothing more than a shared performer with The Gas Station at the End of the Universe, a show seen a few days previously. To be honest, I wasn’t even completely sure what I was about to watch, other than a play about sexual assault and masturbation. But to simplify the show to just that simple statement would be to do it a major injustice. Maybe a fairer description would be the film Inside Out, but rather than with the inner workings of an 18-year-old female’s mind, it instead gives personality to things slightly lower down: the female sex organ. I don’t think Pixar will be stealing this for Inside Out 3 anytime soon.

Head of the gang is Vajina, the vagina (a very dominant performance from Marlowe Angelina). Accompanying her throughout are Vulva (Ava Soars) and Clit (Molly McNulty, the connection with The Gas Station at the End of the Universe). Clit only speaks when she is enjoying herself… so far she has remained very silent. This strange trio belong to Deniz (Destinee Van Dusen), who may tell her boyfriend Emir (Jordan Damico) that she enjoys their sex, but as Vajina tells us, everything we see is faked. In fact, we see Beyin, Deniz’s brain (Secret Shields), even giving her directions on just what to say and when. 

There is plenty going on with Otuz Bir early on, and while it’s all extremely funny in a madcap way, it risks losing control, much like Emir does as he produces the water pistol to signify… Oh, I’m sure you can guess. The opening humour is very much about Deniz’s lack of pleasure and Vajina’s efforts to convince her to explore more. “I want you to get to know us better,” she argues with a clearly repressed Deniz, who refuses to even acknowledge that the trio exist.

But the humour stops suddenly as the play turns its attention to the matter of consent. The play is set in Turkey, a country that withdrew from the Istanbul Convention, a treaty designed to reduce violence against women. When Emir later refuses to take no as an answer, it demonstrates just what it is Deniz, and all women, worry about on a daily basis and why the convention still has a long way to go in making a difference.

Melissa Altug’s writing and directing have plenty to admire when it isn’t being too frantic. The synchronicity between Beyin and Deniz throughout is subtle and easy to miss. As her brain frets and ponders, so does Deniz as she tosses and turns in her bed. There are similar fun conflicts ongoing between the brain and vagina as each tries to steer the direction they feel Deniz should follow. 

The lead-in to Deniz’s awakening possibly takes a moment too long, and when the show reaches this point, it is all over as quickly as you suspect Emir is as well. There is room to play on this sexual awakening more and show Deniz’s newfound confidence, both in her body and just accepting that a woman does not need to be defined by the man she is with.

Otuz Bir is certainly a play with plenty to say, and it does so in the most gloriously unique way. There is still a need to find balance between the chaos and control, but it’s certainly a show with plenty of value in addressing this important topic. 

Writing, Direction & Music By Melissa Altug
Assistant Direction & Sound Design By Alexia Lourdes Campos
Music Composed By Khashayar Bahrami
Intimacy Coordination By Matthew Finnigan
Lighting Design By Olivia Corbette-Hampton
Set Design By Natasha Ross
Costume Design By Sierra Bonavota
Sound Design By Pietro Giuseppe Angiolella

Otuz Bir has completed its run at Venue 13 as part of the Edinburgh Fringe