“I am 9,” Elle Dillon-Reams tells us, immediately pulling us into her exploration of what it means to become a woman through movement, monologue and spoken word that grips from the get go. We journey with her through puberty – dodging the blaring horns of men in vans, sprinting down shortcut routes home to avoid uncomfortable interactions, gripping keys between fingers in case of unwanted encounters or attacks and grappling with the relentless conditioning around body image and the expectation to be a good, polite, appeasing girl. All experiences and scenarios so many of us relate to and recognise all too well.

Reams manipulates her body and voice in ways that make the storytelling feel completely visceral with every movement and sound carrying agony, frustration, defiance and vulnerability all at once. There are more conversational moments too, like when she chats with a 60 year old man in the audience about his understanding of periods. Her tone never slips into patronising but there’s an underlying sadness and exasperation that so many people still fail to grasp the sheer scale of pain, shame and disruption periods bring to so many.

For me, these moments where Reams breaks into a direct rapport with the audience feel slightly less gripping than the stylised spoken word, physical theatre and lip syncing sequences she snaps into with such force and precision, though that contrast does make the more theatrical, heightened moments land with even greater impact. One of the most memorable sections comes in her exploration of the word “no” and its complexity, power and the ways it is so often ignored and disregarded in conversations and experiences around consent. Reams mashes together a series of instantly recognisable songs featuring the word “no” to create a commanding movement and lip sync sequence that feels really cathartic and dynamic.

Her energy is electric, unwavering and fearless throughout (no small feat in a 30 degree heatwave!!) with her message landing with absolute clarity. Misogynistic, sexist, abusive and violent patterns of behaviour are systemic and detrimental – they demand to be called out, challenged and changed together. She acknowledges that the show alone can’t do this, but it is a crucial, powerful way to spark discussion, raise awareness and drive action. 

MEAT ran for one night only during Brighton Fringe but keep an eye out for more work from Elle Dillon-Reams here!