Humour is a good way of defusing tense situations. You know, social embarrassments, personal difficulties and existential puzzles. In the wonderfully titled Eat The Rich (but maybe not me mates x), Jade Franks turns her experience of being a Scouser who survived a Cambridge university education (just, and then some) into a short, but entertaining monologue. And, having really wowed Edinburgh last year, she brings this comedy of bad manners to the studio space of the Soho Theatre. But although there’s been a bit of loose talk about this being “the new Fleabag” (could this moniker be cancelled please), it’s neither long enough nor edgy enough to compete with Phoebe Waller-Bridge classic.
Franks’s semi-autobiographical 60-minute debut show begins with her working in a Liverpool call centre when an insulting, random phone chat provokes her into deciding to apply to Oxbridge, although – typically – she has to work out what and where Oxbridge actually is. In a rather facile segue, she settles for studying Eng Lit at Cambridge – easy eh? If only. Of course, the reality must have been more complicated that this, but perhaps too boring for a show that has a very bouncy, sunny vibe. Franks plays some wry games with the clichés of Liverpudlian stereotypes, reminding us that stupid ideas about crime and Northern cities are just that – stupid.
Things really get hotter and funnier when Franks arrives at Cambridge and the class antagonism really begins. Being from a working-class background and unaware of the available bursaries, she has to get a job as a cleaner to fund her studies. (Apparently not allowed at this uni.) So she meets Kristina, her Polish co-worker, and both have to hoover, sponge and scrape the rooms of, yes, the other students. These are mainly upper-class boys and gals, with public-school educations, ski hols and all the other trappings of wealth and privilege. Amazingly (or not), their names and bad manners are the same as they have been for decades (if not centuries). As she navigates Freshers Week and some awkward encounters with Tilly, Milly and Jilly (and their like), she does manage to survive the feeble club nights, as well as hooking up with a potential Mr Right. Ah.
The interactions with fellow students are presented with wit and insight. The country’s class system is explained as a complex hierarchy. Of course, there’s public school versus state school, but also you can be more “in” if you’ve been to a great state school as opposed to a cheap private one. Being home-schooled by arty bohemian parents has more cachet than going to an international school. So class is about culture not just cash. This, along with the fact that most of our politicians are Oxbridge educated, is familiar stuff, but Franks delivers it all with zest and plenty of humour. The cultural faux pas of those outside the magic circle of the posh are both funny and cringe-worthy.
With her glitter nails, false eyelashes and gym wear, Franks commands the stage, dancing on at the start and interacting with the audience all through the show (btw, love those heels). Her ebullient personality and good nature make this a kind of fairytale evening in which a courageous young woman gets a sentimental and social education despite some rather awkward encounters – I really like the episode when her sister comes to visit. Performed on a bare stage, Franks uses an office chair, a pastel-coloured corded phone and an olde school desk from yesteryear, which helps with the costume changes. The soundtrack features Dua Lipa’s “One Kiss” and some thumping house music.
The comic clashes of class and culture are vaguely reminiscent of both Pygmalion and Educating Rita, but Franks has an original lightness of touch that is both the best and the worst thing about the show. While humour is great for exposing prejudice and arcane ruling-elite behaviours, it also defuses some of the anger that must surely have been there for a person who has to put up with privileged people mimicking her accent, and who has to work to fund her studies while surrounded by trust-funded rich folk. Oh well. Neatly directed by Tatenda Shamiso, and designed by Claudia Casino, this show is a little too superficial and smooth for my taste, but will delight anyone looking for a comedy night with both one-liners and heart.
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