PERFECT SHOW FOR RACHEL

Rachel and Flo O’Mahony in Perfect Show For Rachel at CONTACT MCR.
Image credit: Ikin Yum

Directed by Rachel O’Mahony

Part of S¡ck Festival

CONTACT MCR THEATRE

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Perfect Show For Rachel by ZooCo is a piece that glows with the kind of truthfulness most productions only gesture toward. It is equal parts a live theatrical experiment, a portrait  of family and a celebration of difference – not difference as a hurdle to be explained, but as a source of humour, beauty, unpredictability, and creative force. If you’ve ever watched a piece of theatre and thought, “This could all be improved if a single audience member was given total creative control”, then Perfect Show For Rachel delivers your fantasy in all its anarchic, heart-squeezing glory.

At the centre of the show is Rachel, a Director with learning disabilities who lives in a care home. It is her wants, whims and wonderfully unfiltered decisions that shape the entire evening. The rules are simple: Rachel picks what happens next by pressing one of 39 buttons in front of her and everyone else – cast, crew, and a theatre full of wide-eyed onlookers have to get on board with her choices. There is something delightfully subversive about seeing seasoned performers waiting in earnest for Rachel’s next instruction like students waiting for the supply teacher to hand out stickers.

The cast of Perfect Show For Rachel.
Image credit: Ikin Yum

The humour is baked into this unpredictability. One moment we’re in a nightclub, the next there’s a monologue about friendship or a skit about farts. Then we’re playing human skittles or at a Kylie Minogue concert. Watching the cast pivot gracefully (and sometimes less gracefully) from one idea to the next is half the fun; watching Rachel delight in her own power is the other half.

But beneath the joyful absurdity beats a genuinely moving heart. Perfect Show for Rachel is not just a gimmick, it’s a celebration of Rachel’s autonomy, creativity, and presence. The production quietly dismantles the idea that theatre needs to be controlled, polished or predictable to be meaningful. In fact, the show’s most affecting moments come precisely from its unpredictability: the tender pauses, the tiny negotiations, the shared laughter that ripples across the room when something goes unplanned and the cast doubles down with absolute sincerity.

The ensemble’s generosity is extraordinary. They listen, they follow, they honour each choice Rachel makes with unforced respect. The flexibility required is Olympian; the warmth is palpable. For a piece that could easily tip into gimmickry, ZooCo instead crafts something that feels radical in its simplicity: a show shaped by a woman whose voice is often overlooked in wider society, placed at the unarguable centre.

Perhaps the show’s greatest achievement is the way it quietly challenges traditional theatrical power dynamics. Who gets to decide? Who gets to lead? Who gets to be witnessed? Here, the answers are beautifully, deliberately redistributed. And in doing so, the production becomes more than a tribute. Instead it becomes an act of radical inclusion, woven through with affection and wit.

In the end, Perfect Show for Rachel is not “perfect” in the polished, predictable, dramaturgical sense. It’s perfect in a far more meaningful way: it’s honest. It’s alive. It’s a reminder that theatre is at its most thrilling when it surrenders to the messy, joyous logic of being human.

CONTACT MCR THEATRE 19th – 22nd Nov 2025

Peter McMaster:27

Image: Oliver Rudkin

CONTACT THEATRE

Created by: Peter McMaster

Performed by: Peter McMaster and Nick Anderson

We enter through the curtains unto the main stage as though we are entering a large black confessional box. We are greeted by two men in Skeleton unitards. Is this the afterlife? Is this where all the dead 27 year olds artistes gather on a Tuesday night?

Peter McMaster explores the vulnerabilities around masculinity and the choices we may make about how fast and furious we drive toward 27 and what lies beyond. What unfolds is brutally visceral and beautifully tender.

The scene is set and as these two men hold hands they evoke a powerful image of tenderness and trust. It reminded me of my son at 3 years old clutching his best friends hand as they jumped off a wall together rolling and tustling in the warm Greek sand. There is much rolling and tustling on the stage too. Bodies slam into each other with a raw intensity that blends aggression, curiosity, lust and love. Yellow tape marks out the space like a sporting event and it does indeed feel like Alan Bates and Oliver Reed wrestling in Women In Love.

The intimacy of the performance revs up a notch as the two performers start to disrobe requesting assistance from the audience.  This could go very wrong but the vibe of warmth and trust in the space allows it to be natural and unforced. As we assist it is playful and charming. The naked male body becomes unthreatening and is simply the casing for the two lifeforces on stage. 

Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
Ash is frequently shaken across the stage to remind us of the impermanence of life at 27 or any age. At times the ceremony feels like a hedonistic take on Ash Wednesday. As they roll and throw and support each other round the space, sweat and ash clad their bodies. The fresh, pink flesh becomes deathly grey and dulled. The dirt on the outside echoes the darkness on the inside that they apologise for, unrolling scrolls of apologies that we help them read out. The dirt on the outside echoes the shame on the inside but as a celebration of life experience, and living through your excesses and your mistakes.

The musical backdrop is straight from the back catalogue of the 27 Club – Nirvana, Amy Whitehouse, Jimi Hendrix. The impact of the music highlighting the story combined with the power and grace of McMaster and Anderson ensures a truly memorable experience. 

I left 27 feeling incredibly glad to be alive in that space watching that show on that summer evening. I was 27 when my Father died and for a while I just wanted to be with him. To be just ashes. A performance like 27 is a celebration of choosing life. I would see it again in a heartbeat.