Elsa has an octopus inside her head, she tells us, at the start of this sweet, affecting play about one woman’s experience of autism, from schoolyard bullying and ostracism to uncaring therapists, romantic rejections and contending with an often uncomprehending adult world.
Inspired by writer Allison Davies’s own diagnosis of autism and directed by Karen Traynor, the story explores that experience from the inside. We learn that Elsa has comfort words as a child (“onions”), a great mind for detail, but that she also struggles with acutely difficult moments (when she feels the octopus stirring dangerously) and embarrassments at school (“I love your earlobes” she tells a girl, on whom she has a crush, who shows only contempt back, sneering “What even are you?”).
Produced by Alphabetti Theatre as an immersive, interactive show and also as an online drama, there is a spare, no-frills quality to it; the story is enacted with a cast of just three playing an array of characters.
It takes a while to really take off, and seems both puzzling and awkward at first, but Davies’s funny and heartfelt writing sweeps us into Elsa’s mind and shows us the alienation felt by someone with undiagnosed autism – therapists think it could be anything from ADHD to bipolarity or psychopathy. But importantly, its wondrousness, too, with quietly distilled moments when the octopus brings inner enrichment. Elsa has a guileless voice and Hannah Genesius plays her in quirky and winning ways while Yemisi Oyinloye and Zoe Lambert do a fine job of juggling the other parts.
The set, designed by Verity Quinn, is minimal with a flat outline of a house in its backdrop that lights up or fizzes according to Elsa’s mood. As a production it loses its immersive and interactive elements online but retains its emotional heart nonetheless.
It is not only a story of neuro-divergence and self-acceptance but also one of love. Elsa’s single mother (Lambert) emerges as a quietly heroic figure, full of love and loyalty, while Elsa’s romance with Carmen (Oyinloye) becomes more and more moving. “Give me your worst days, your most difficult days,” declares Carmen, to bring the story to its lovely happy ending.
• Tiny Fragments of Beautiful Light is at the Alphabetti Theatre until 18 February then available online.
