The Yurt at the Courtyard of Curiosity becomes a chicken coop when Irish playwright and actor Eva O’Connor’s Edinburgh Fringe prize-winning rooster struts through its door. What follows will have audiences and critics clucking for the entirety of this year’s Fringe.
'Chicken', like O’Connor’s last play, 'MUSTARD', would make a difficult elevator pitch: it’s a show about a chicken who was raised to be a proud Irishman, becomes an acclaimed actor who rubs feathers with Michael Fassbender and Colin Farrell, and then descends into ketamine addiction before finding redemption as a chicken rights activist. None of this makes sense on paper, but O’Connor renders it lucid and logical.
Like 'MUSTARD', where she slathered herself from head to toe in tangy condiment, O’Connor starts with a premise that is peak Fringe performance art, then subverts all expectations by delivering a monologue of such wit, clarity, creativity and thematic depth that you crave a transcript of the show, so you can underline and circle passages and unravel its hidden meanings. 'MUSTARD' wasn’t about mustard: it was about anorexia, relationships and the Irish identity. 'Chicken' is about Ireland too, and animal activism, addiction, trauma and mental health, sexuality perhaps, and the entertainment industry. It might sound like too much to bite off, like a bucket of KFC, but it is smoothly mashed together, like a tub of potato and gravy.
Even if this was just performance art, an hour of O’Connor speechlessly flapping her wings, hunched in chicken posture, it would be worthy of the price of admission. People need to buy some tickets so O’Connor can pay for some post-performance remedial massages to knead out the kinks in her back and neck, which must arise from her commitment to her character. Her plumage is resplendent and ingeniously functional. It all works together to suspend, immediately, any disbelief or cynicism you may have about the show’s premise.
Don’t be reluctant to take risks this Fringe; don’t be chicken, see 'Chicken'.
★★★★★
