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Archive for Reviews/Buzz

Edinburgh Fringe Show: ★★★★ for Phone Whore (Edinburgh Fringe, August 2014)

Opening up the fourth wall before the curtain rises is Cameryn Moore’s one-woman show exploring desire, thoughts, actions, and society. Phone Whore charts a working evening of Larissa, a phone-sex operator working from home for a ‘no-taboo’ operator. Drawing on years of experience, Moore immediately pulls in the audience, inviting everyone through the fourth wall and into her bedsit as she introduces her line of work.

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Broadway Baby: ★★★★ for Phone Whore (Edinburgh Fringe, August 2014)

If you wander the streets of the Edinburgh Fringe, you might run into Cameryn Moore. She sets up in various outdoor locations with an old fashioned typewriter and promises to write you bespoke smut on demand. If you don't want to wait to happen upon her, you could also go and see her show, which is a frank and compassionate insight into her work as a phone sex worker.

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The Marble reviews slut (r)evolution (Victoria Fringe, August 2012)

"... a study in vulnerability that manages to achieve catharsis and healing through a talented performance. What’s ironic is that Moore came across as far more vulnerable with her clothes on and laying her soul bare before an audience than just simply being bare in front of a crowd. Such is the impact of her explicit honesty, and make no mistake about it being explicit. This is not a show for the squeamish or the faint of heart, but those who stay will be in for a touching performance and one heck of a show."

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Charlebois Post review of Phone Whore (Montreal, January 2012)

... Moore is, most of all, a highly-skilled actor (here and in phone job). She juggles the performer/spectator dynamic constantly. One minute we are accomplice - she speaks directly to us (and with tonight's minuscule audience it was possible for her to actually make eye-contact with each one in the house). In these moments of complicity she tells us about the work, about what it pays, about how the business of it works. Then she gets a call and the complicity evaporates.

The spectators becomes voyeurs, even intruders. Moore closes slightly away from us; she doesn't wink at us during the torrid call, we are not there. Often we laugh (easily, uncomfortably, horrified and delighted), sometimes there is dead silence especially near the end of the work when the calls take on a different colour and descend into profoundly shadowed corridors of the human experience. You are challenged, even tested; but it is a cathartic moment when all of your values are thrown into sharp focus and how you deal with the entire play becomes a case of how you parse it in your own head.

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