Are You Watching? - Royal Court ★★★

You may have seen the 2021 figure that 97% of women aged 18-24 have experienced sexual harassment in their lifetime. Georgie Dettmer ensures we will not forget this. In Georgia Wilmot’s strikingly clinical, white-tiled thrust, a series of choppy sketches plays out between six actors, multi-rolling, each story analysing a different damaging consequence of the patriarchy’s online manifestations.

A conversation between two girls at a sleepover drives the play; they watch disturbing events unfold from a fluffy bunk bed at the end of the stage; sometimes eating popcorn, sometimes unable to look, sometimes bored. When the spotlight moves to them, they discuss the worst things they’ve ever seen, filled with rage about a scenario very similar to Gisèle Pelicot’s story, even though her name is never mentioned. As the pair develops, Dettmer highlights the way women can internalise the pain of female victims worldwide when female trauma is so accessible online. During the course of the play, the girls realise the intersections between their pain, trauma and desires, ending with a literal bloodbath and expression of fury.

The most gripping moments are performed by Lucy McCormick, acting ruthlessly as a loving but imperfect mother whose 14 year old daughter has gone missing. Multi-rolling as a sexual scientist and an abused wife, she stands out as ‘The Star’ – one of the most provocative characters. She’s a stereotypical Beverly Hills ex-child celebrity being harassed online with deepfakes created in anonymous corners of the internet, using images of her as a child for sexual and snuff films. McCormick’s storylines feel the most developed and most scalding to watch, mostly due to her unflinching transitions between characters and her true commitment to each one. These stories as well are the most hard-hitting, placing you in a helpless position – hence the sarcastic, accusatory title of the play ‘Are You Watching?’. Yes, Dettmer, we are, and it feels uncomfortable! (In all the intended ways, of course).

However, the sharpness of Dettmer’s script feels muffled by Jess Edwards’ (Elephant) direction of the ensemble – which feels quite important when the play is about relationships. Edwards directs the absurdity of Dettmer’s idea really effectively – allowing the uncomfortability and edginess to radiate from her script – but character development seems to only exist in the writing. Most roles seem a bit see-through with Edwards’ direction. Understandably, this play is not selling tickets for its groundbreaking characters; its purpose is to provoke, and provoke, it does. But better chemistry between actors could allow room for an emotional response other than total shock. Actors’ individual performances are stellar, but they generally seem to be performing in their own shows.

This play is not trying to give you a solution for, or stance on, the issues raised. Instead, these episodes offer more of a commentary on what is already widely known about online abuse. It feels like an expression of feeling, of the female experience. And this is something Jess Edwards directs very well – the staging of feminine rage and the difficulty of being a woman attempting to engage with an online/AI world that is learning and evolving to degrade her. All actors have a sense of distance between themselves and their (various) roles, and flit between characters seamlessly. One just can’t help but wonder if all this performance of female hardship and trauma is simply staged for the sake of being outrageous, or for allowing viewers to safely indulge and invest in watching women suffer.

Taking the online world and turning it into something watchable and performable by real people in real time is a bigger task and a bigger risk than one may think. How do you take such a personal, intimate and algorithmic experience (scrolling socials, creating explicit films) and make it universal for your audience? You are bound to be met with discomfort and perhaps, closed-mindedness. For this reason, actors must feel totally comfortable and be able to translate their purpose.

Are You Watching? could be very cathartic for some viewers, but if you’re not sold on the fast-paced graphic violence, what purpose does it serve? Does it just reinforce what you already know about the porn industry and patriarchal abuse? If the play doesn’t empower or rile you up, be prepared for an intimidating 65 minutes.