McMillan shrouds obsession and neurosis in humour, single-handedly turning the clichés of fairy tales into a clever black comedy. She applies the cautionary archetypes to the pursuit of beauty and perfection, unmasking the ugly truth behind the shiny façade.
As Shivvers encounters the people who indirectly did her wrong by stealing her spotlight, she exposes the price of looking a certain way and the mental disorders that come pre-packaged with today's societal expectations. McMillan analyses the issues obliquely with her innate banter.
She sparkles with her highly physical comedic acting, unleashing her energy and fully utilising the surrounding space. She walks among the crowd, jumps on furniture, and hides behind a table in her quest to show that no one is who they seem. She draws on the audience's imagination to create a forest, and a castle, and a 'Chips and Hummus Anonymous' meeting, aided slightly by tiny bubbles and crisps falling from the flies.
"Why are you so insecure? Why do you care so much what people think?" Shivvers asks ShyGirl when they meet. The exchange is the heart of the play, the unmoral moral of the piece, if you wish. McMillan doesn't try to elevate herself above the Average Janes of the world, but prefers to show how disturbing perception and validation can be.
Her writing is raucous and unabashed; she breaks up the flimsy fairy-tale-like atmosphere with cuss words and a Helena-Bonham-Carter-esque performance. Her posture, intonation, and pitch continuously change and mould into different characters, unafraid to challenge her body for the sake of acting under Gabi Maddock's slender and subtle direction.
Mirrors is a window into the unfair and arbitrary roles imposed to women by society, it avoids being too righteous or telling people (women, to be more specific) what to do or not to do, opting for lighter and unconventional methods to convey the message.
Mirrors runs at Leicester Square Theatre until 14 April.
Videos