We’re greeted by a woman in Regency dress, a character from an unfinished story by the great Jane Austen. She is, she explains, the type of young woman that the Austen universe leaves behind: good at lots of things but excelling at none, judged as unremarkable, always unseen. At the ripe old age of 27, she’s confronting the hideous fate of spinsterhood. And so she’s emerged from the pages of her novel, to challenge her creator to write a better ending… only to find that it’s 2023, the world has changed, and she’s stranded after closing time in a literary museum.
Rather handily, someone’s left a phone behind, and our heroine soon discovers the shady world of dating apps – to which she hilariously attempts to apply the standards of her time. There’s a rich seam of comedy here and actor-playwright Alexandra Jorgensen mines every grain of it, greeting her suitors with coy delight before the penny drops about what their emoji-filled messages actually mean.
There’s a serious side to this too: much of her experience should be shocking, and Jorgensen poses important questions about whether societal and sexual liberation has delivered the empowerment we might hope for. One monologue in particular, about liking yourself but not loving yourself, resonates through the ages.
But, like the Austen work it references, I don’t think this play is quite complete. It clocked in at a mere 35 minutes on the night I attended, and the journey of self-discovery felt implausibly rushed to me. Would such a mannerly individual, from any period, descend in the course of a single night to swigging wine straight from the bottle? It’s an amusing image, but it’s at odds with a character who needs more time to adapt, to learn, just to be.
I’d love to see an hour-long show built round this concept, and I’m certain there’s plenty of potential still to be explored. For now, it’s a smart and funny extended sketch, which ultimately delivers an affirming message about the power to choose your own adventure.