Belly of the Beast – Finborough Theatre, London

Writer: Saana Sze

Director: Dadiow Lin

Introduced in the 1980s, the notorious Section 28 of the Local Government Act prevented discussion of LGBTQ+ content in schools. Although the Act’s terms were theoretically limited, its vague wording caused many teachers to limit and self-censor any mention for fear of reprisals.

It has been over 20 years since Section 28 was repealed, but if anything, the pressure to self-censor has increased. This is particularly pertinent around discussion of gender expression, with trans and non-binary youth and teachers, in particular, finding themselves and their knowledge of self suppressed. Schools are usually intrinsically binary-coded, from uniform codes to the tradition of referring to teachers as either “Sir” or “Miss”.

In Saana Sze’s two-hander play (the playwright’s first full-length work), Shiloh Coke plays NowMartha, a teaching trainee who finds themself having to suppress their non-binary identity in their new job in an East London school. Removing their chest binder and allowing themselves to be addressed as “miss”, Coke complements Sze’s sensitively worded script with wordless expressions of the pain this causes them.

Coke alternates monologuing duties with Sam Bampoe-Parry as YoungMartha. Bampoe-Parry’s version of the character, a 13-year-old who is struggling with both friends who are drawn into violence and teachers who give a pass to the white kids while jumping to assumptions that their non-white classmates must have been the instigators, is also aware of their own gender identity. YoungMartha references that they think of themself neither as a boy nor a girl, but there is so much else going on in their life that it accentuates that their gender identity is just a tiny part of who they are.

As the tales ping-pong back and forth across opposite ends of Delyth Evans’s traverse set, the strongest subplot revolves around “Q,” one of NowMartha’s English students who comes out to them. NowMartha’s support and the resulting acceptance by Q’s classmates of their chosen pronouns result in a backlash that reverberates throughout the school.

Taken together, Sze’s two stories of Martha at different stages of their life help to accentuate how one’s sense of one’s own identity is so important, but which so many adults feel insistent on imposing their own views regardless of the pain and discomfort they inflict upon young people who just need love, respect and support. When the play moves away from this central premise to different (but not unrelated) subplots, Sze’s play also hints at how the education system is letting down its students, with NowMartha’s academy focussing on getting the children to recite William Blake’s London from memory. It’s an imposition of identity from those who seek to deny non-binary children a say in their own self-identity and illustrates Sze’s premise well.

In their first professional role, Bampoe-Parry occasionally lets their nerves get the better of them, stumbling over the occasional line. Far more often, they are engaging and delightful, more than capable of capturing the audience’s attention and drawing us into YoungMartha’s life. While they and Coke do not generally interact, the two performers bring a unified sense of character that helps elevate Sze’s script.

That is not to say there are no rough edges to the production. At times, Sze’s introduction of narrative twists signal themselves clunkily, and schoolroom discussions about Macbeth feel like they’re not quite as connected to the play’s main thrust as they could be.

But with two such engaging performances as those of Coke and Bampoe-Parry, Belly of the Beast wins us over. Its simple message of the power of respecting other people’s sense of self, and the damage risked when we do not, is a great takeaway from a promising playwright with an original, distinctive voice.

Continues until 1 February 2025