Scraps review – posh frocks and meal deals in a class comedy

1 day ago 6

Meet Daisy and Mia. One is working class, the other middle class. One is proud of that, the other embarrassed. Between them they like pints, artisan coffee, ballet and meal deals. A folk song about labour will be performed by one while the other will do a French-inspired mime. Which of them feels skint and which is considered carefree?

If you’ve begun making assumptions then that’s what Scraps is here to question. Daisy Kennedy and Mia Macleod’s two-hander is a merry-go-round of sketches tussling with class cliches and the cost of living crisis. It’s also about the cost of making a play about these complex issues. The title sums up the ragtag nature of its clowning, dance breaks and DIY multimedia. But it also reflects the fights that break out between the pair and suggests the measly leftovers their generation have been handed by the capitalist machine. Home ownership, job security and what you can buy with an hour’s work at minimum wage are all on the agenda here.

Playing versions of themselves, the pair intersperse the routines with rehearsal-esque discussions dissecting them. Is it OK for Mia, who is from Bath, to put on a silly northern accent? Does Daisy make fun of Phoebe Waller-Bridge purely because she’s posh? They pick each other up on different points, going round in circles to satirise strained self-awareness: one daydream of theatrical success ends with them plagued by the hypocrisy of hypothetically sending their imaginary children to private school.

The pair excel at eat-the-rich lip-syncing using clips such as Rishi Sunak’s reflection on his “mix-and-match” approach to friendships of all classes (“Well, not working class”). Some of the targets are soft and the character comedy scattershot – especially the bros who found an alternative meat company and the vacuous podcast hosts. There are pertinent observations on social comparison and nepotism but the show is strongest when exploring the dynamic between the pair – including what they each gain from the other’s class identity – and could be heightened by focusing more squarely on the impact of Mia’s windfall from a rich uncle. These 75 minutes could be whittled down to a really impactful hour.

One of the principal joys is the seemingly innocuous statements that are interrogated to the nth degree, like Mia’s breezy dream to wear a nice frock in a period drama. The early routine in which Daisy endeavours to pronounce the word “nuanced” is a keeper and a beautifully absurd episode arises from a Nigella baked ham recipe.

There are no easy answers here but lots of tricky questions in a show that may be scrappy but is sparky and whip-smart too.