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Barbara Loots
Jamie-Lee Money gives a very personal performance in SPIN CYCLES at the Baxter Theatre. A cathartic journey where she navigates the feelings associated with loss and grief, with love and humour.
SPIN CYCLES as a one-person play is utterly human at its core, showing a daughter dealing with the trauma associated with loss (and the fears that surround the anticipation of such), warts and all.
It dives headfirst into the irrational reactions and compensating behaviour that are revealed when you don’t know how to cope with a multitude of emotions that seem to attack you all at once when you try to manage your reactions to a family member being diagnosed with cancer (or any life-threatening disease). There is no how-to guide. At its base level, your body goes into shock and triggers the fight or flight mode when dealing with that threat to family balance and associated happiness.
In SPIN CYCLES, both the fight and flight response seem to merge and culminate in Money’s character finding herself in a spinning class that is meant to help with the release of suppressed emotions. Her character is tasked with testing whether you can sweat out the sadness, a task that she at first somewhat passive-aggressively approaches from a pure compliance perspective to appease her current-trends obsessed wellness publication editor. A scenario that presents itself as a great comedic playground.
Money’s performance is utterly charming – she gets the audience on her side from the start, no matter how erratic or self-destructive some of her character’s actions may be. All of the escapades give the character a depth that is appealing, as we are all flawed humans just trying to navigate the storms of life. The show, under the direction of Larica Schnell, is short and punchy – tightened more, it could be even punchier. Kieran McGregor’s lighting design plays beautifully with the sensitivities surrounding the production, allowing an almost farcical playfulness to be unleashed to great delight when required, while also pulling the audiences into Money’s inner circle when moments of intimacy call for it.
There are triggers here and there, as the play may hit differently for someone who has lost a loved one to the big C: The comedy may land differently, providing reprieve rather than just entertainment. I cried through the laughter because SPIN CYCLES makes you realise that others struggle with the same questions, the same small moments, like wondering whether you can forget what someone looks or sounds like. In bringing such seemingly everyday struggles to the forefront, Money makes you feel part of her journey. She strikes a great balance between vulnerability and humour, and somehow in striking that delicate equilibrium still manages to impressively cycle for a large chunk of the show.
Small things can perhaps be tweaked to up the impact of the show even more: There are moments where Money picks up a mic to share (almost in a Ted Talk fashion) some observations. The mic breaks the personal connection with the audience to some degree, almost acting as a barrier, placing strain on the hard-won connection. In those moments the lighting (encircling Money amidst the darkened stage) is sufficient to cue the audience to the fact that there is a mood/setting shift happening. As Money’s voice carries sufficiently without the mic it feels more like an impediment than an amplifier in the intimate context of the play. Apart from the karaoke scene, I don’t think the mic adds anything to the experience.
Money is also already cycling when the audience enters the theatre space, which minimises the impact of the moment in the show when you realise how she establishes the link to spinning in the first place. Seeing her spin while you enter almost desensitises you to the impact of the resistance she initially shows to the idea of spinning classes as a form of therapy. That would hit differently if Money, when the lights go up, is simply revealed to the audience at first sight as sitting in an airplane seat, with no one yet knowing where she is off to or returning from.
These are small issues in the bigger scheme of a play that radiates sincerity. As an overall product, I found SPIN CYCLES to be a delight. It confronted me (in the best way) with an array of emotions. It is intended as a humoristic snapshot of exercise as a form of trauma escapism, and it hits that cathartic mark with gusto!
You can catch it onstage at the Baxter Theatre until 1 March 2025, with tickets available for booking online through Webtickets.