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⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ In this cleverly crafted piece, Nude dives headfirst into the complexities of the male gaze, nodding to Mulvey’s old‑school film theory but making it feel fresh, lived‑in, and painfully personal. Clara’s plan — to walk into a life‑drawing class and strip naked in front of her favourite lecturer — is introduced with a wickedly funny line: “No, but how funny would it be though? Like, he turns up, and it’s just me – with my tits out. His model student.”. It’s a moment that perfectly captures the show’s tone: bold, cheeky, and already teetering on the edge of something darker.
The male gaze — and why it matters here
Laura Mulvey’s theory of the male gaze argues that mainstream visual culture positions men as active lookers and women as passive objects of looking. Women become “to‑be‑looked‑at,” their bodies framed for male pleasure, validation, and control. What makes Nude compelling is that it doesn’t just critique this structure — it shows a woman actively stepping into it.
Clara doesn’t simply endure the male gaze; she seeks it, fantasises about it, and tries to choreograph it. She wants to be seen by her tutor in a way that makes her feel chosen, special, exceptional. That desire — to be looked at on one’s own terms — is the emotional engine of the show. It’s exactly what the press release calls “the seductive idea that being seen is the same as being empowered” . Clara confuses visibility with agency, attention with autonomy, and the play exposes how fragile that fantasy is.
This is where Nude becomes a genuinely contemporary feminist work. Mulvey’s theory was about cinema, but Clara’s story shows how the gaze operates in real life: women internalise it, negotiate with it, and sometimes chase it. The show asks a sharper question than most: why do we sometimes seek the very gaze that limits us?
Performance, writing, and Bacchanalia’s mission
Hattie Chapman
Hattie Chapman’s performance is the engine of the piece — restless, funny, and emotionally raw. Audience feedback from the Norwich Theatre R&D sharing described the work as “bold, lyrical, profound writing and superb performance” and “so real and raw” , which is exactly what Chapman delivers. She gives Clara a searching, self‑mythologising energy that makes the humour land and the emotional turns sting.
Phoebe Segal’s writing is confident and unafraid to push Clara into uncomfortable territory. Developed through Menagerie Theatre Company’s Young Writers’ Workshop and supported by Norwich Theatre and Frozen Light, the play has the feel of a young writer testing the edges of a big idea — and succeeding. Bacchanalia, the new East Anglian company founded by Segal and Merlyn Haycraft, frames its mission around interrogating inherited myths, “from ancient archetypes to cultural norms” , and Nude fits that remit perfectly. It takes the archetype of the woman on display and cracks it open from the inside.
A Fringe debut with bite
Nude begins with a joke and ends with a jolt, tracing Clara’s journey from playful self‑display to the moment her fantasy stops protecting or trapping her. Chapman’s performance makes that turn land with real force, and Segal’s writing never shies away from the contradictions at its core. It’s a debut that not only showcases a formidable new talent but also embodies Bacchanalia’s mission to crack open the myths we inherit. A bold, unsettling, and memorable Fringe offering.
By Pat Harrington
