Review: If Not Me, Hen & Chickens Theatre

Born out of Unrestricted View’s Hatchery programme, designed to help develop shows from short monologues through to a Camden Fringe performance, If Not Me certainly suggests the scheme holds plenty of promise. 

What begins, at least at first glance, as a woman chatting casually to a friend, musings on religion and her admission she doesn’t believe in God, slowly develops into a show about obsession, loneliness and a desperation to be part of something. The repeated mantra of “if not me, who. If not now, when.” takes on more meaning as we travel further along the carefully curated path.

That opening sees her wondering about the conviction of men who have made lewd comments to her over the years, wondering what they expect to happen, whether they genuinely believe the comments will have any results. It feels a throwaway comment, but like so much else within this gentle script, every thought, however random it may appear, has a purpose later. There is a lovely attention to the small details that gradually draw you into her tale, rewarding the audience for their close attention.

From random musings she moves on to telling us about a customer at her gym. Again, at first it feels almost random, just part of many comments, until this time that thread develops and grows in a most unexpected fashion. Here her obsessions come fully to light; the constant counting of numbers and the fantasies of where her life could lead. And these obsessions become more than just mere fantasy, as her behaviour becomes much more worrying.

Boo Jackson is a lovely performer. She draws us in with her calmness, making us believe she is just a normal woman recounting her stories as if to a friend. Even as things become anything but normal, her tone tries to convince us otherwise, asking us if we wouldn’t do the very same. It’s this calmness that makes her all the more disarming. 

With nothing except a high stool as the set, it does risk becoming nothing more than a simple monologue, especially when she spends the first act unmoving from that stool. Thankfully, James Wren’s directing knows when to move her along; a subtle shift of the stool at one point seems to transport us into a new location. But the subtlety of that direction means we are left to fully focus on her words. Lighting likewise brings that slight variation needed, while a burst of sound later on, as voice-overs bring a WhatsApp group to life, helps in furthering our understanding of her state of mind and her obsession. It also demonstrates how even her friends are taken in by her flights of fancy, as they sympathise with her about events that have only happened within her own mind. 

There is something quietly beautiful about If Not Me. Jackson’s writing manages to draw us in to her obsessions as if they are perfectly normal, as if her behaviour and actions are just what any normal person might do in her situation. As a comment on obsession and the mental health behind it, there is plenty to love in this show that will take you completely by surprise.

Written by Boo Jackson
Directed by James Wren
Produced by Unrestricted View & The Hatchery

If Not Me has completed its performances at the Camden Fringe