Ruth Agnew reviews Space Invaders, written and performed by Nicola Brown, at Little Andromeda, Saturday 7 September, 2024.
Nicola Brown is an Ōtepoti comedian who wants to bring pelvic organ prolapse out of the dark and into conversation. Her award winning solo show, Space Invaders, invites audiences to discuss subjects rarely spoken raised in polite company. Brown confidently takes the (pelvic) floor at Little Andromeda for a frank discussion about catching catfish in the middle aged dating pool, lesbian time keeping, and most importantly, pelvic organ prolapse.
In addition to comedian, Brown can also list clinical psychologist, executive coach, columnist and writer as jobs. Aspects of all these roles present themselves in the construction of Space Invaders and Brown’s performance. The way she takes the stage is a balance of confidence and comfortable-ness; the ease with which she took the classic stand up comedy position showed the audience they were in experienced hands, while her friendly, understated demeanour brought her storytelling style a warmth and familiarity. The narrative format is like a collection of a weekly columnists’ best pieces over the past year, with such disparate subjects as horoscopes, catfishing Franks and crochet offered as individual anecdotes as well as interconnected episodes. The humour includes silly wordplay and a lightness that takes the audience on a smooth ascension in content from safe subjects like fitting Gen X or Boomer categories to edgier issues like manicuring one’s lady garden for a gynaecological tour through the estate.
By the time we arrive at prolapsed vaginas, we’ve been set at ease by crochet-eating and lesbian Libra-isms. And that’s the brilliance of this show; Brown opens up a space where intimate medical issues and emotional trauma can be openly aired and shared, with or without assiduous pruning and landscaping. Jokes about the elusive clitoris lead to an empowering reflection on the patriarchal silence and taboo around honest and unashamed discussions about common gynaecological experiences.
Space Invaders is, Brown tells us, the only show in the world that explores pelvic organ prolapse (POP), despite half of people with vaginas experiencing this in their lifetime. POP is when one or more pelvic organs herniate down into the vagina, resulting in discomfort, pain, incontinence, sexual complications, faecal incontinence, infections and more. Bringing POP out of the closet and pushing it centrestage (alongside other unexpected surprise gifts brought by childbirth, menopause, estrogen levels and aging such as bowel issues, mood swings and lower libido) without triggering our prudish, colonial impulses is an impressive fest and important step in empowering those who relate to Brown’s experiences to speak out about their own. It is no exaggeration to say this could save lives; an untreated pelvic organ prolapse could lead to further gynaecological problems, reduced quality and enjoyment of life, chronic pain, and life threatening infection.
So far, this sounds like a heavy topic for comedy material, so I must be clear about the fact that this is a very, very funny show. I’m a geek who adores word games and loves to loathe astrological enthusiasts, so Brown’s strongly worded email to the Otago Daily Times to complain about the mysterious disappearance of the daily horoscope appealed greatly to me.
Nicola Brown: Space Invaders is currently touring.
Flat City Field Notes 