Jess Kav’s Fringe production of Fermented Dreams, while being forced to do it through a lacklustre title, exhibits itself primarily through the meta. Kav’s character reconciles with a life of stardom just out of reach with revealing anecdotes, dramatic performance art, and a singing voice that most definitely deserves the fame her character craves. Fiction and reality are blurred as Kav speaks frankly to a group of mysterious and even questionably present critics, record executives, and other personified tickets to a better life who (apparently) inhabit the front row of the audience. And it was perhaps that blurring effect that made the play so fascinating.
Admittedly, I was probably not the only one in the fully packed Bewley’s Theatre at first annoyed with Kav’s tardiness to her own show, only to be pleasantly surprised by Kav’s use of the late arrival to add more to herself as a character. This was eventually revealed to be scripted, yet the seamless blend of the act into the narrative at the time still spoke greatly of them as an actor, writer, and someone who clearly had no issue thinking on their feet. In nearly all aspects of the play, except, perhaps instrumentation, which was handled well by the clearly multi-talented Louis Younge, Kav’s talent added volumes to what would have otherwise been a relatively bland one-woman show. The cycles between what could only be described as slam poetry in and out of thematically relevant original songs such as Diary Song and Genesis, was a fantastic way to show the character’s slow descent into madness, and then exasperation. Each track, while populated by relatable lyrics, is articulated with the most unattainable of singing voices, with Kav driving each word home with a voice that enveloped the room so well you would think you were inside an elevator or a phone booth rather than a spacious theatre.
“The show’s ability to play with the balance between these questions throughout the narrative and consistently leave the audience guessing on just how real the scenario in front of them is, was a fantastic narrative plaything for the audience to enjoy”
The attempts at comedy, while sometimes falling flat, always added a degree of sympathy for the main character in her struggle. Kav’s character making fun of the music executives, ostensibly aiming to satirise the musical industry (more synth!) often came off as desperate jabs from a performer still bent on getting approval and praise. Even Kav’s character’s seemingly triumphant act of kicking out the imaginary music executives is afterwards treated with a mild sense of relief rather than celebration. This phenomenon is precisely what made the play so enjoyable. Who is Kav as a character and who is Kav as a real person? How much do their thoughts and desires align? The show’s ability to play with the balance between these questions throughout the performance leaves the audience guessing on just how real the scenario in front of them is. This dynamic serves as a fantastic narrative for the audience to enjoy, a necessary element if one is to put on a one-woman show with hardly any production or set.
