Review: I Dream in Colour

A semi-autobiographical, solo snapshot raising questions of bodily autonomy


★★★

A black-and-white portrait of a woman, partially obscured by a lens flare and dark shadows
I Dream in Colour | Photo courtesy of Storytelling PR

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People have been telling Sophie what to do with her body ever since she was a young child. Now in her mid-20s, she finds out there’s a risk her cancer will return without yet another surgery.
As she weighs up whether or not to go under the knife yet again, everyone around her seems to know best but Sophie just wants to decide for herself.

This semi-autobiographical, solo performance snapshots moments from Sophie’s life, beginning with a routine doctor’s appointment that reveals the bad news. As she grapples with this discovery and considers whether she should undergo the operation, she is constantly interrupted by ableism in both the present and as memories from her past. From medical personnel, to Uber drivers, to strangers on the tube, to teachers and lecturers, she encounters all sorts of overt discrimination and micro-aggressions. These are pointed reminders of how ingrained disability discrimination is, how disabled people are treated as less than human, and how little say they have over their own bodies. Though these aspects of the play are rather on the nose, they challenge harmful societal structures.

The piece is performed with conviction by the writer (Jasmine Thien), who is clearly deeply connected to the story that unfolds. Voiceovers depict other people in Sophie’s life, though these have an unnerving, mechanical quality that challenges the sense of reality generated by Thien’s performance. Despite this, the play is effectively structured and an honestly told act of resistance.


I Dream in Colour, Underbelly Bristo Square, until 24 Aug (not 6, 11, 18-20), 2.20pm