Reviewed by: Fringefeed
Review by Maia Sharrock Churchill | 02 February 2023

Making its debut performance at the FRINGE WORLD Festival, UnMirrored provides a glimpse into the life of George; a ballet dancer at a prestigious dance school who is living with the long-term effects of body dysmorphia and disordered eating. Through her interactions with Brain—an ever-present ally and harsh personal critic—we see just how much diet culture seeps into our ever-day lives. From the ever-bloating beast that is social media, to the quiet clicking of calculator keys as you count calories (or sets of burpees), to the lingering feelings of doubt that rise to the surface as you look at your peers through the studio mirror. When your professional success is tied to your waistline, every sip of wine needs to be burned, and even the smallest comment can send your spiralling.

It’s not everyday that I find myself wishing that a show was longer. While most of the show keeps a comedic tone—almost casually discussing the ever-shrinking portions in a breakfast bowl—it also effectively demonstrates the more ”ugly” reality of mental illness; the kind that has you running for the bathroom and exercising to the point of exhaustion. But with a short 40-minute runtime, it felt like the show only scratched the surface of its subject matter, with many essential- and often unspoken details being relegated to monologues.

Where the show really shined, however, was in its unwavering physicality. Throughout the show, there were short choreographed sections set to familiar classical accompaniments, which tied-in the themes of ballet and performance with dark humour and Vaudeville-esque physical comedy. These sections were a highlight in the show—providing both key moments of levity and raw, unbearable reality—and once again, it left me hungry for more.

Overall, UnMirrored provides a glimpse into the cyclical nature of body dysmorphia and disordered eating through poignant dialogue, excellent choreography and dark physical comedy. So if you’re looking for a more intimate, bite-sized show, then head down to the Hayman for a night unmirrored.