Be the best British version of yourself!
Young people with different accents, temperaments, and life experiences. Their birthplaces are scattered all over Europe, yet they are all in the same place - the Miss Brexit London pageant. The contestants try to convince viewers of their commitment to the UK so they can continue to live the British dream. However, only one of them can win. What does one have to erase from one’s life to become someone different and 'better' - to become British? An existential journey towards stability and better opportunities, but one that forces self-denial, is presented by students from the London College of Music, University of West London, in Miss Brexit at the Husa na provázku Theatre.
A large screen framed by British flags and six characters (five contestants and one presenter) marching towards the audience. In the dark they all look identical, but in the light their physical idiosyncrasies become evident. Different heights, proportions, facial features and skin colour. Their flawless English is gradually eroded by the accents that come from their various native tongues. A Swiss, an Italian, a Portuguese, a Catalan, a Slovak with Cuban roots, and an Australian. Each one has to say what their first experience of Britain is like. However, instead of the expected sentimentally joyous story of starting a new and better life, the viewer learns of difficult beginnings in a culturally and linguistically different country, homesickness, and a sense of loneliness. In spite of all this, each of the participants tries to be the one to give the impression of a perfectly assimilated citizen. The paradox is that the most promising candidate in each category of the competition is decided by the moderator, who, like the contestants, is not a native Brit, and by volunteers from the audience who come from different European countries.
But what is the imaginary line that the contestants are no longer able to cross? It could be something quite ordinary. For example, the unwillingness to give up the extravagant summer fashion of the sunny south, or the most delicate Spanish ham. Or not seeing the sense in standing in a queue several kilometres long to pay homage to majestic British symbols to which they, as Europeans, not Brits, simply have no relationship. Even if the contestants have managed to learn how to spill tea in the traditional British way, or how to articulate correctly when reciting Hamlet's monologue with a carrot in their mouth, their own non-British cultural roots keep intruding.
The singing and movement component of the production serves as a vehicle for the specific cultural expression of all the individuals. When they all sing a bit of their song together at the end, it creates a dissonantly polyphonic piece, but the voices end surprisingly euphoniously. This final unity represents their shared determination not to give up what is unique to each of them. A consensus that a gold-plated plastic crown cannot replace all that has taken place in their lives and in the lives of their ancestors.
