The set for this show looks cosily middle class – we’re presented with a wall of bookshelves (admittedly with a glitzy background), a comfy looking sofa and a lamp. All framed in the beautifully theatrical red ruffles of the Fringe Bar’s stage. 

What we’re about to see probably wouldn’t be ascribed to anything middle class. The audience – mostly female – is characterised by loudly colourful clothing and hair to match. There’s a fair amount of tattooed skin. 

I ask the woman next to me what drew her to such a show. “My partner’s got a vested interest in me seeing it,” she says. “He’s keen for me to have a go.” A woman in front of us turns round to tell us about the Facebook page.

I’ve seen Hugo Grrrl, alias George Fowler, three times previously, and admired above all his ability to capture concepts and situations with linguistic accuracy and wit. Tonight is no exception.    

Clad in a fetching suit, complete with waistcoat, Hugo’s appearance and gestures come across as Chaplinesque – both dapper and balletic. In his words, he’s our sub-par MC and bionic man. We’re particularly evolved life forms, he informs us. And we’re being invited to experience a brave new world this evening – the futurism of the show’s title.

It’s time to introduce the featured readers. There’s Maddie May, exotic dancer whose How to Be a Stripper sold out in Dunedin then Wellington. Next up is Megan Whelan, RNZ’s Head of Digital Content. Completing the trio is Linda Jane Keegan, environmental educator with a first book shortlisted in 2019 NZ Children’s Book Awards.

Each woman enters through the audience and on reaching the stage disrobes. We’re treated to the sight of three very different female forms. I’m especially struck by the boob variety.

But I’m much more struck by the range of views and preoccupations held by the “kick-ass vivaciously funny, whip-smart women” of the promotional material. These views emerge in answer to our MC’s questions, and even more tellingly, in their literary choices.

The first reading – my favourite ultimately – is a Langston Hughes poem ‘I Look at the World’. Its theme of slavery and repressiveness of a particular group is echoed throughout the evening.

Hugo also checks out their attitudes to nudity – is it, for example, anti-feminist? The fact that we’ve got three completely naked women, evidently comfortable with their state, in front of an equally comfortable audience, is surely telling. Their courage – and it’s not bravado – is admirable.

We get to hear from Maddie May how George Lucas, director of the Star Wars series, got away with no mention of the gynaecological side of childbirth, from Megan Whelan that an ingredient in Viagra may be useful for menstrual cramps and from Linda Jane Keegan about the decolonisation of the imagination. All heady stuff. 

“Who wants to see a nipple?” is how Hugo introduces the second half, referencing a Gucci chest. The suit’s a bit tight due to testosterone – it’s one he wore for his first ever Naked Girls show. Is that perhaps why this is going to be the last?  

Hardly any disses for this performance, except a slap on the wrist for Hugo’s overuse of the f-word; it’s only effective if sparsely employed. I stop counting at 30. Given that he has a quiver chock-a-block with linguistic arrows, he could shoot us with some alternatives. 

Congratulations and thanks to producer Kate Spencer, researcher Jess Ducey and lighting technician Pierce Barber. Inspired by the extraordinary and prolific Hugo Grrrl, Naked Girls Reading: the Futurism Edition provides an extraordinary and unique theatrical experience.

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