Sometimes, when I’m tired or sick or hungry, I worry about silly things – like if I’m liked. And then I remember that some of the people in history I admire the most were burnt at the stake in the public square.
The desire to be liked is pretty universal, and sometimes problematic. When I work with young people, I always try to slip in the same piece of advice: Don’t worry if you’re disliked, because you’ll often be disliked for qualities and actions of which you should be rightfully proud. I’m looked at blankly, or with boredom tinged with disdain – and it becomes apparent that my advice, though unsolicited, is entirely sound.
In Tom Moran is a Big Fat Filthy Disgusting Liar, Moran tells us how so very desperately he has wanted to be liked. So desperate, that the desire has often trumped the truth.
Moran’s delivery is utterly superb, trippingly-on-the-tongue fast and strong … until it’s not, until it slows, until it softens, and with enormous emotional impact he shares moments of shame. The lighting design (Colin Doran) and soundscape (Aoife Kavanagh) beautifully accentuate this journey.
Directed by Davey Kelleher, the show is very funny and incredibly powerful; a brilliant performance by Moran.
If performance is the correct word. Presumably it’s a sharing, not a piece of fiction. (It’s odd how commonly we now do this on stage. Genuine honesty is rare enough in Life; in the theatre, until recently, it was completely unknown.) The whole thing feels a little like being at a support group – except that the guy whose turn it is to speak is absolutely riveting for 70 minutes straight.
The piece is about Moran and his family, and audiences will no doubt respond to the psychological particulars in different ways. Some might feel they’ve been invited to gaze through a portal into a bizarre alternative universe. From others it all might evoke a there-for-the-grace-of-God sort of response. Others still might feel the thrill of recognition, a realisation which can be either comforting or confronting, either assuring them they’re not alone, or challenging them that it can’t go on.
Of my three imagined responses, mine was of the first variety.
But undoubtedly, Moran is exploring one of the fundamental tensions in the human experience: the outside world is filled with people but your inside world is filled with you. How do we reconcile our social needs with the solitary aspect of consciousness? How does anything from that outer world become an unquestioned part of our inner world?
Is the only way out of these thorny dilemmas to focus on loving, rather than being loved?
This piece is fun, thought-provoking and soul-expanding.
Paul Gilchrist
Tom Moran is a Big Fat Filthy Disgusting Liar by Tom Moran
At New Theatre, as part of the Sydney Fringe Touring Hub
Until 28 September
https://sydneyfringe.com/events/tom-moran-is-a-big-fat-filthy-disgusting-liar/
Image by Owen Clarke
Theatre Red 