Telling a familiar tale of sex, betrayal, and teenage anxiety, Easy is an engaging monologue from emerging playwright Amy Blakelock. The story follows 16-year-old Alice – clever, awkward, equally fascinated and frightened by the prospect of losing her virginity. When she launches herself recklessly into the first opportunity that presents itself, she ends up callously exposed online.
Blakelock’s writing is lively and frank, and though the plot unfolds with disheartening predictability, she demonstrates an arresting flair for minute, almost invasive detail. Caught in a spiral of shame and self-doubt, Alice obsesses over fingernails digging into flesh, gravy dribbling down chins, and goosebumps rising on freshly shaved skin.
As Alice, Robyn Wilson brings out the humour and nuance in the text. She’s a likeable, believable protagonist, naive and vulnerable but just about holding her own as she navigates the competing needs of intimacy and privacy, safety and sexual fulfilment.
Director Hannah de Ville makes the most of a small space, keeping Wilson in twitchy, agitated movement throughout, pausing occasionally to curl up on the floor in cringing embarrassment.
Verity Johnson’s stark, angled set places the action in a receding grid punctured by glossy plinths and patches of turf. A wall of lightboxes flashes along with Dan Saggars’ striking lighting design, neatly pairing distinct palettes with each of Alice’s conflicting moods. An interminable maths class passes under a pale grey glow. Peachy warmth suffuses moments of peace, while a period of shock fills the space with a luminous monochrome fog.