‘Tokyo Rose’ at Underbelly
No one could accuse Burnt Lemon of lacking ambition. Their latest, the New Diorama Untapped Award-winning Tokyo Rose, is a densely packed staging of the life and trial of Iva Toguri D’Aquino. A young Japanese-American woman, born and raised in the US before the start of World War II, Iva was sent to care for her ailing aunt back in Japan. After war broke out, she was denied a return home, despite being a US citizen, and began making satirical wartime broadcasts that were then misinterpreted by the US as treasonous. It’s an intriguing prospect – a war story which on the surface seems accessible and recognisable (particularly to the older white demographic who make up the majority of theatre audiences) but one which by actively centring women of colour immediately positions itself as subversive.
It’s nimbly directed by Hannah Benson, who has devised an impressively streamlined and seamless piece of gig theatre, with William Patrick Harrison’s score rollicking along, underscoring the majority of the piece, aided by an adaptable retro rolling set by Luke W. Robson. Harrison’s music is ridiculously accomplished – you can hear how tricky it must be to perform, and there are indeed a few moments of vocal strain, although generally the ensemble carry it off with absolute aplomb. As Iva, Maya Britto is appealingly tenacious and roots the piece, and her scenes with her mother (Yuki Sutton) have a wonderfully gentle, tender tone.
And yet, there is the overwhelming sense that the company have bitten off more than they can chew. An hour is not enough to contain this show – it feels overstuffed and at times impenetrably dense, and a ninety-minute slot feels like it would better grant the piece the space it needs to breathe. Telling a story such as this in such a compressed format almost inevitably leads to plot exposition taking precedence over character development. Frustratingly, there is very little room to take a moment and digest the deluge of information being delivered. As such, Tokyo Rose is dishearteningly arms-length with its audience, even when it’s urging us to Feel Something in its bigger emotional numbers. Characters are introduced and sketched out at a rapid-fire pace before being pushed aside for the next plot development, and one really begins to feel the disconnect.
And the points made about the US’s hypocrisy towards its non-white citizens whilst being a place supposedly “founded on freedom and equality” (which it wasn’t – but it’s unclear throughout as to whether or not the company are being ironic) – well, they feel a bit obvious, a little lacking in complexity. Like the characters, the broader political statements being made feel truncated by the limitations of the 60-minute Fringe show format. Also, the line “Do you think because of my slitty eyes I can’t see what’s happening?”, whilst clearly intended as a powerful, climactic moment for Iva against the powers of white supremacy – well, to be honest, it just made me feel a bit weird – because it’s not a reclamation of a slur, not really. It doesn’t feel like the show has earned it and instead, it hangs in the air uncomfortably. It’s frustrating, ultimately, because many of the elements for a properly propulsive piece of gig theatre are in place. You can see what this piece means to the company – particularly Britto, Sutton, and Lucy Park – but the gut punch never lands.
Tokyo Rose is on at Underbelly until 25th August; more info and tickets here.
