A tiny little record
shop in Brisbane’s West End bears the setting to a most passionate and honest
love story. Belles of Hell presents a spoken word poetry show She Stole My Every Rock and Roll exploring
the love and loss of estranged lovers and despite all being about love, there
is no cliché here.
Two women meet, and
fall in love. It seems simple enough, but using only their words and a few
gestures, these two women guide audience through every moment of their
relationship. From their very first encounter, to their first date, first kiss;
nothing is left untouched in a brutally honest insight to the thoughts of both
women. There are no scenes, no acting, nothing but the poems of the performers
to create such vivid and fluid images into the heads of the audience.
These two women are
beautiful writers. There is no better way to describe it. The command they have
over their words and their ability to create vivid images and emotions in the
minds of the audience is something that many writers crave. The whole show had
audience members smiling all the way through and was a genuine delight to
watch. Spoken word poetry is always a risk, but this show is a perfect example
of when a risk pays off. This show was an exceptionally emotive and creative
way to present a love story that touched every audience member.
With that being said,
the delivery of the poems is just as vital as the writing of it and at moments
during the performance it lacked. There were moments in the performance where
the performers would speak very quickly and the poems became jumbled. There
were even moments where the performers intentionally spoke over one another
stopping any coherent word coming through; it became confusing and impossible
to follow. If the poets slowed down at times, and fixed these issues in
delivery, this show has a lot of potential.
These women have a
very beautiful talent, and this show is a testament to their ability. I may not
know much about spoken word poetry but I know they’re good and would definitely
recommend this show.
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