Megan Tomei
First things first.
Megan Tomei performs a spin class during every performance of SpinQueen™, and judging by the pace she maintains, I’m fairly confident she won’t need to visit the gym for the duration of the Edinburgh Fringe.
The show doubles as her daily workout.
That physicality isn’t simply a gimmick, though. It’s fundamental to a production that starts out feeling incredibly funny and energetic before gradually revealing something considerably darker underneath.
The premise introduces us to Meg who, after a violent and sleepless night with her abusive boyfriend, returns to her spin studio and carries on as though nothing has happened. As the class progresses, however, maintaining that façade becomes increasingly difficult. What initially looks like discipline and self-care begins to reveal itself as something altogether more destructive.
And from the moment you sit down, you’re part of Meg’s class.
There isn’t really a conventional divide between performer and audience here. Meg is your spin instructor and you’re her participants.
There are instructions.
There is encouragement.
There is motivation.
And if you’re sitting in the front row, don’t even think about dawdling.
The audience around me absolutely lapped this up. There is obvious humour running throughout the production, and Megan Tomei has the confidence and stage presence required to make the audience participation feel natural rather than forced.
But listen carefully.
Because underneath all that humour, motivational language and relentless positivity, something isn’t quite right.
That’s where SpinQueen™ becomes clever.
There are lines that initially sound amusing or perfectly appropriate coming from an enthusiastic fitness instructor. But listen to what is actually being said – and consider its meaning and connotations – and another story starts emerging.
The language of self-improvement begins to sound different.
Perfectionism, calorie counting, body image and the constant need to please other people begin creeping into this apparently upbeat environment. The boundaries between self-care, self-discipline and self-destruction become increasingly blurred.
All the while, Meg keeps pedalling.
Eventually there comes a moment when the production makes absolutely clear what has been happening and why.
By then, it’s too late.
You’re already invested.
That audience participation at the beginning has done something rather clever. We’ve entered Meg’s world, laughed with her and accepted her as our ridiculously enthusiastic instructor. So when that world begins to unravel, we’re not observing the breakdown of some distant character.
We’ve spent the performance with her.
That makes some of what follows genuinely disturbing to watch.
SpinQueen™ isn’t a story with white picket fences and a neatly manicured lawn. Scratch beneath its energetic surface and there are layers here – deep and uncomfortable ones.
Abuse, body dysmorphia, perfectionism and the exhausting desire to be liked and adored all sit underneath the comedy.
And yet the production doesn’t suddenly abandon humour once those subjects emerge. Instead, comedy and darkness continue to exist alongside one another, which arguably makes the uncomfortable moments even more effective.
Megan Tomei’s performance is superb.
Actually, describing it as acting almost feels inadequate.
There were moments where I stopped feeling as though I was watching somebody portray a character and instead felt as though I was witnessing a very real person attempting to maintain control while everything underneath was beginning to collapse.
And physically, the performance is extraordinary.
Maintaining a convincing character, delivering dialogue, responding to an audience, controlling the pace of a solo production and simultaneously completing what amounts to an intensive spin workout requires enormous stamina.
The cycling isn’t simply there to impress us either.
The relentless physical movement becomes part of Meg’s psychology. She keeps going. She keeps pushing. She keeps performing.
Stop, and perhaps everything else catches up.
That gives the central image of the production considerably more meaning than I initially expected.
This is exactly the sort of show that can flourish at the Edinburgh Fringe: an immediately accessible concept that gets people through the door, but with considerably more substance waiting underneath.
And I don’t think Edinburgh will be the end of the road for SpinQueen™.
The concept travels incredibly well. Anywhere in the world where people understand spin classes, fitness culture, perfectionism and the pressure to present the best possible version of yourself, there is an audience for this production.
Funny, physically relentless and increasingly uncomfortable, SpinQueen™ takes something as familiar as an exercise class and uses it to explore something considerably more complicated.
This one’s a hit.
And yes, Megan gets a little extra credit simply for managing to cycle through the thing every night.
I’m exhausted just thinking about it.
Overall Rating: ★★★★★ – 5 Stars
Hilarious, relentless and unexpectedly dark – SpinQueen™

