Same Penis Forever | Rebel Lyons
Our contemporary view of marriage is often shrouded in clouds of Instagram driven bliss, where rings hang shiny on the end of manicured fingers and vows are recited against picturesque mountain valleys. The photographer prevails as a key player in the big day, with weddings, and marriages in general, finding themselves reflected as accessories to a feed. And yes, I’m aware that not every conjugal couple relishes in the curated publication of their married life - #NotAllMariages. But, as Rebel Lyons’ explores in her one-woman-extravaganza, Same Penis Forever, our tendency to glamorize has repercussions that go beyond exorbitant wedding prices, and touch on something a little more sinister.
Following a string of sell out performances at the 2021 Adelaide Fringe, Same Penis Forever was back with full-frontal-force for two nights at BackDock Arts. The bittersweet lovechild of a divorce and a COVID-19 induced lockdown, the work exists as Rebel’s own retort to marriage, in all its illogical expectations and patriarchal origins.
Cabaret and theatre intersect at this Hen’s Night party for the happy-ever-after sceptics, where confessions fly, and laughs come with a bite. This convention, of simultaneously lampooning and interrogating the things we know to be true, found its strongest comedic moment as I listened to ‘Ballace Wishop’ speak on the capitalist history of engagement rings. My laughter was followed by a genuinely felt frustration; a realisation of just how many accepted truths of my reality emerge as lies created to sell a product.
There were points where pacing left me aching for the next punchline, although it was never too long before this craving was indulged. But when they did come, they left me reeling with the thrill of watching the threads of our reality unravel, and at times, completely snap.
With no fourth wall in sight, audiences became enrolled as co-conspirators, as best friends, and as, perhaps a little too overtly at times, those who need enlightening. On a few occasions I found myself wanting Rebel to trust that I already knew the things she was telling me and for the messages in the show to be conveyed in a less didactic way. But on reflection, would I have said the same a year ago? When dealing with subject matter as complicated and intangible as institutional systems, do we have a responsibility to be crystal clear in our education of self and of others? I can’t say I have the answer to this question, but I am grateful to be even watching the kinds of theatre that make me consider it in the first place.
Same Penis Forever treads this fine line between a shout and a whisper, between displays of the intimate and of the public. It was the epitome of a Hen’s Night at its core, where the bride reigns supreme and those who’ve come to celebrate are privy to the drunken divulgence of secrets and hesitations. A pre-performance engagement slideshow revealed the sad irony behind the ‘just-popped-the-question’ pics. Exhibiting the absurd expectations of a moment forever immortalised in the Instagram and Facebook feeds of many.
There was an odd kind of sadness in realising that may I never be able to think ‘engagement’ without thinking ‘diamond’. A fear that, despite Rebel’s zealous advocation for NOT tying yourself to the “Same Penis Forever”, marriage may always be a measure of my success. But in the throes of a divorce inspired Christmas carol sing along, I was almost hopeful.
