HoneyBEE

A review by Ian Beckett

FOR the third week in a row, I found myself in Theatre 2 (I still call it The Studio, old-school that I am) at Harlow Playhouse watching a one-woman show. T wo weeks ago, it was Emma Spearing’s life affirming exploration of death “Whole”, last week it was Susie Corcoran’s real wild child exploration of the eye-watering world of parenting “More than a Mum” and last night, I was enthralled, engaged, entertained, rebuked and danced with (that’s what happens if you sit on the front row) by Elle Dillon Reams’ “HoneyBEE”.

I had the good fortune of bumping into the esteemed Rory Davies, who has been the Artistic and Executive Director of Harlow Playhouse since 2017. I commended him on consistently bringing such a diverse wealth of talent to our local theatre. When it comes to selecting the best, Rory has the Midas touch and I said only last week, I seldom leave the Playhouse without booking or planning my next visit.

HoneyBEE, written and performed by multi-award winner Elle Dillon-Reams, promised and delivered “a heady mix of music, stand-up and spoken word” as Elle, with boundless, relentless energy guided as small but perfectly appreciative audience, through the highs and lows of twenty-something (we learned that age is immaterial) Kate, as she rocks and rolls her way through pubs, clubs, and festivals, encountering hope and hedonism on a journey to discover and rediscover her identity and self-worth. In doing so she allows the audience to pause for breath, occasionally, and turn the microscope upon themselves.

Kate’s story, we are told, represents a generation’s search for purpose and the need to dance in the face of adversity. There is, here in the Playhouse building tonight, a curious juxtaposition. For in the main house an audience of mainly pre-teen, certainly pre-pub and club, girls and their mums and a few dads, are watching Pop Divas Live! singing and dancing along to all their favourite pop stars, some of whom this old fart has never heard of! And I wonder whether the lively liberation of these little divas and their friends having “the best time of their lives” is preparing them for life’s adversities or providing a layer of wannabe-dom, that they will have to reconcile in their own search for purpose and identity in the years to come.  

Elle Dillon-Reams’ HoneyBEE is poetry in motion, heady, soul-searching, and emotionally real and Elle punctuates the rhythm with direct engagement with the audience: “Stephanie, in the pink and the blue, you get it don’t you?” and “YOU, BUSY TEXTING IN THE FRONT!” yes, that was Elle or Kate rebuking me but as I told her afterwards I was trying to take notes; she didn’t give me chance to respond to my “telling-off” before she had me briefly on my feet to help her to dance and to get me to do likewise, after a fashion.

Kate’s journey is a rollercoaster ride not just for herself but the audience as well, as humour gives way to the reality that humanity and life is shit sometimes, and yet there is hope, and it’s a hope we can all share and reflect in. 

Kate’s closing words, her affirmation, is shared and spoken, unrehearsed, among the whole audience and includes the following words:

And it’s never too late to make a new start

At 48, at 66, 88

I know it’s tough

But you are enough.

Thank you, Elle. I had been wondering.

 HoneyBEE ends and Elle informs the audience that she will be outside, happy to chat, and selling copies of her debut poetry collection “Maladaptive.” Most of the audience do one or the other, or both. I take her up on the offer of a sweaty hug!

HoneyBEE is still taking booking enquiries from venues, and it deserves to be seen and appreciated as much as it was last night. The good news is that Elle returns to Harlow Playhouse on 18^th September with her other show from her current repertoire, “MEAT”, an electrifying roar of fury, a rallying cry of protest and unifying celebration of strength packed with heroism and heart. I’ll be there!