Lana Schwarcz’s one woman show is a tour de force that absolutely everyone not afraid of boobs needs to go see. The show details Lana’s battle with breast cancer and the jokes that she wrote along the way.

Thoughtfully and hilariously, Lana details the experiences surrounding her cancer treatment alongside presenting moments of reality that leave the audience silently stunned. It is hard to explain just what Lana has achieved with this show, but she has taken this taboo subject and made it comedy; cathartic, real, honest comedy. 

Lana’s performance as herself at various stages through her treatment is simultaneously delightful and heart-wrenching. We experience her bubbly personality go through drastic changes as she gets further along the road of radiotherapy.  As she bounds through the story, she also plays other characters: breast excavators, massage therapists, art therapists, and of course cancer itself.

The combination of stand-up comedy, role play and short sketches creates an incredibly effective medium for the audience to visit Lana’s experience. 

As far as technical aspects of the show go, Lana incorporates some basic costuming and props, and most notably a projector. The projector is used to create set and costume; it also projects onto her body at various points throughout the show. All of the transitions to and from the projector scenes are slick and accurate. The props are used to establish character as well as a means furthering the plot. They are used effectively, and embellish an already rich and vibrant experience.

The one thing that does not seem to go to plan is the head set microphone Lana uses. It seemed to cut out more frequently than it amplifies her voice, and in a space like the Fortune studio, it is not really necessary. However, this is a small blip in an otherwise fantastic night.

Lana’s message is an important one that everyone needs to hear: when it comes to your health, do not be embarrassed; go and get a check up. Though this show discusses her battle with breast cancer, the message is universal.

So if you want to go and experience this chunk of Lana’s life and hear her explain this message far more eloquently than I, head to the Fortune Theatre Studio on either Monday the 7^th or Tuesday the 8^th of March and get yourself a ticket to Lovely Lady Lump. You will most definitely not regret it. Plus if you love it, you can buy some awesome boob merchandise and get Lana’s show to Edinburgh. 

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Lana Schwarcz is an Australian stand-up comedian who was last year diagnosed with Early Breast Cancer. This intimate, disarmingly frank show – at once gutsy and gleeful – is an account of that experience and of her subsequent and ongoing treatment.

It’s a solo performance from an abundantly talented – indeed charismatic – performer, supported by some very well-worked sound and lighting. From the warm introduction at the beginning of the show to the sale of some quite  unexpected ‘Merch’, available from the performer afterwards, Schwarcz reaches out to the audience in a direct but caring fashion. As a result, her rapport is rock solid throughout and those attending on opening night return the love with great enthusiasm.   

Schwarcz bares all in her account, both literally and figuratively. This candour provides the basis for vivid scenes in which key moments are recreated. Stand-outs for me include the look inside the nightmare mind of the patient when panic takes hold, and the visit to the egregious oncology masseuse. There are some very effective musical moments too – Imagine Dragons’ ‘Radioactive’ has never sounded so grainy and so massive as it does in this context, for example.

The structure of the work is ‘show and tell’, with plenty of narrative, explanation and comment in between the vignettes. Personally I would have liked to see a little less ‘tell’ in the mix. It’s usually a safe bet to say “put the experience out there and trust the audience to process it” and I suspect this piece is no exception. There is a lot of compelling material here, darkly funny, and it speaks eloquently enough for itself.  

One way or another, though, the opening night audience are powerfully engaged and treated to an experience of rare candour, compassion and insight. 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer