In which Tom Marshman takes us on a journey from Leg Shame to Leg Fame, telling the story of how he survived the pain and trauma of varicose veins, gaining a place in the Pretty Polly Legs 11 final. Along the way, we get an investigation of gender expectations, and liberation from those expectations, in this gentle, poignant and amusing performance piece.
The show is in the solo performance confessional-autobiographical tradition, using spoken text (written by the artist), film, song, and embodied actions. It sits between live art and theatre, perhaps more of a live art piece by most people’s definitions – Tom is himself, not acting a part – but it has a good dramaturgical structure, respecting the need for something presented in a theatre space, with a captive audience, to have the necessary pace and rhythm.
As we arrive in the space we see Tom pottering around, dressed in an old-gold tux and a pair of star-spangled tights. We are welcomed and invited to tie together a colourful selection of tights (sparkly, fishnet, bisque, American tan) to make a line, later used for an on-the-floor tightrope walk. The autobiographical texts are presented in various ways. There’s regular storytelling, as when we learn of Tom’s mother’s job in a supermarket, eschewing the spam and beans to promote brands such as Del Monte fruit cocktail, Martini Rosso, and – yes – Pretty Polly: ‘You’ll never catch a Pretty Polly girl in trousers!’ There’s a different kind of performance mode in the poetic ‘And when my legs were five… seven… eleven…’ sequence in which we get a quick run-through of Tom’s childhood and adolescence with moments of shame, embarrassment, self-awareness and emerging personal identity exposed and honoured (his legs running away from home aged five, red vanity case in hand; his legs having their trousers stolen at a party aged fifteen, resulting in a trip home in his Dad’s car with legs cocooned caterpillar-like in a sleeping bag). There’s ironic film clips (Busby Berkeley choreographed legs, and – inevitably – vintage Pretty Polly ads) and there are songs sung (these a little shaky it has to be said).
The adult legs have a tale to tell of pain and medicalisation and recovery, and we get the varicose veins story told with plastic drinking straws wedged down into Tom’s tights (the straws a nice shade of turquoise plastic, fitting in well with the red-and-turquoise theme throughout).
And so to the central story: when Pretty Polly announced that they needed a new pair of legs to represent them, Tom thought ‘I have a new pair of legs!’ and thus began his quest. We are now entering something resembling reality TV territory as we learn of the contest, the shortlist (the only man amongst a bevy of lovely-legged girls) and the outcome of the final – a tale told with suitably dramatic pauses and film interludes interspersed throughout. real6.ch Audience members get invited up for some Martini Rosso, drunk through straws (yes, those straws – still attached to Tom) and somewhere along the way, there’s a very nice section where the audience’s dancing legs are filmed and the film is played back to us.
Tom seems a little shy and unsure of himself at times, but this just adds to his charm. A very enjoyable little show, cleverly constructed, and as soft and velvety a fit as a pair of Pretty Polly 15 deniers. And actually, with a serious message hidden under the glossy sheen: we are all lovely, we can all be lovely – just believe, be brave, and be yourself.