"‘slut (r)evolution’ has nothing to hide, and that is largely what makes this play so enjoyable. The complete openness that Moore has with her audience is beautiful..."
Archive for Reviews/Buzz
Buxton Festival Fringe Reviews: “Phone Whore’s greatest strength is Moore as a performer herself” (July 9, 2015)
"Few performances can make you so consciously unsure of yourself, but Phone Whore does so with heaps of boldness and intelligence."
Ms Moore is captivating to watch and has as much energy as a spring tornado. Her show (at Sweet Grassmarket) is disturbing and, in parts, hilarious.
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.
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.
Cameryn Moore’s second show in the Brighton Fringe is a more personal follow-up to Phone Whore, but delivered with the same confidence and stand-up panache. Part confessional, part sexual agit-prop, part storytelling, part memoir she puts herself on the line with a clear and moving account of her sexual biography.
Cameryn Moore takes us through an evening as a phone sex chat host, from the vanilla to the beyond. All you wanted to know and little bit more on top, because until you've seen Cameryn you really don't know much about the world of phone sex.
"... 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."
... 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.