The Timeless Theme of Destiny

Destiny written and performed by Florence Espeut-Nickless. Directed by Jesse Jones. At the B2 Stage Belgrade Theatre on Thursday 26 September for one night only.

Review by Annette Kinsella.

Beginning a play review by referencing another performance might seems counter-intuitive, but bear with. This week I was lucky enough to see two great performances in Coventry – Destiny at the Belgrade Theatre and Rita Sue and Bob Too at the Albany. At first glance they seem like polar opposites – Destiny is a hard-hitting monologue by a (fairly) contemporary working-class girl growing up in an estate in rural Wiltshire, while Rita Sue… is an 80s British comedy, penned by tragic writer Andrea Dunbar and made famous by the television play, in which two teen Yorkshire council estate queens  embark on an affair with local wideboy Bob. However, both narratives are powered by the engines of power, class status, and happiness – and more importantly which groups have a right to them.

Destiny (Florence Espeut-Nickless) is the young soul sister of Rita and Sue – all are sparky working-class girls navigating oppressive systems, plunged into problematic sexual relationships at the hands of coercive older men. All three fall prey to predators, as Destiny is first the victim of a horrifying attack and then groomed by the very support worker assigned to help her. The trio is lusty, exuberant, outspoken and above all likeable, welcoming onlookers into their worlds of dead-end schools and jobs, punctuated by heady cider and black-fuelled visits to nightclubs.

Finally, all three are at heart optimistic, their stoic ‘don’t let the bastards grind you down’ characters carrying them through whatever life hurls at them. And it hurls a lot – Destiny’s missiles include an absent criminal father, a mum who deserts her when she is most needed and a best friend who publicly sides with her attackers. The show gazes unflinchingly at a world fraught with dangers for a teenager attempting to survive in an environment riddled with pitfalls and bear traps, where the word of a poverty-stricken working-class girl counts for nothing.

The set itself is equally uncompromising – as with Rita, Sue… there is no twee romanticism of the countryside. Armed only with a chair on an empty stage, Destiny leads us through underground car parks, past bus stops and chip shops, which become sites of secrets, isolation and corruption. This is the habitat of tracksuits and Croydon facelifts, Little Britain and Shameless, where poor white socially marginalised groups are demonised as pasty-faced chavs and benefits cheats.

Although definitely not for the faint-hearted, Destiny is surprisingly uplifting. Battered and bruised, as she leaves us, she still clings to her dream of a glittering career in a girl band. Witty and intuitive, Espeut-Nickless successfully imbues Destiny’s character with a full spectrum of personality but stops short of reverting to bad stereotypes. Neither a tart with a heart or a Pramface thug, we are infected by her hope for a better future, as unlikely as it seems.

Despite this, ultimately the story depressingly indicates that 40 years after Dunbar penned Rita, Sue…, little has changed for the prospects of girls born into families with little wealth or privilege. Whether through the lens of contemporary society or from the perspective of a past generation, both plays challenge audiences to confront enduring issues of the defencelessness  and abuse of working-class girls, demonstrating just how timeless these themes remain.

Discover more at the Belgrade Theatre: https://www.belgrade.co.uk