Sheila Callaghan’s Everything You Touch is half a biting satire about the world of fashion, half a story about a woman trying to find her true self. The plot is composed of two storylines that eventually complement each other, the first one set in 1970s New York City centers on fashion designer Victor (Christian Coulson) an enfant terrible who we first meet as he destroys a model’s self esteem. Victor gets away with whatever he wants because of his genius, and he’s constantly reminded of it by his muse Esme (Tonya Glanz) who resents those who think he should create “wearable” clothes.
A few decades later we meet Jess (Miriam Silverman), a modern day woman frustrated with the world around her, she finds a reason why to dislike everything and seems intent on going against all notions of consumerism and socially expected behavior. She spends her free time drinking, smoking and having sex with do-no-gooders, one of which is none other than Victor himself, or at least a vision of Victor who goes to bed with her, but not without constantly reminding her of everything wrong with what she does. His sadism ignited by her complacency.
If in the end the stories interact in obvious ways, it doesn’t take much away from the boldness of the play, which comments on illusion and facades, while displaying a viciously delicious visual self-awareness; models in skintight suits play models as well as objects that range from Chipotle burritos to headlights and telephones. Callaghan’s commentary on the objectification of women would read as too angry if it wasn’t that the play loves objectifying Victor as well, and Coulson seems to be having the time of his life playing this part!
He’s all smooth accent, snake-like delivery and sensual movements as he pretends to be in control of everything around him. Coulson’s explosive, seductive performance is complemented beautifully by Silverman’s blase take on Jess, the former is all exterior, the latter is all about shutting herself in. Astonishing production design (Francois-Pierre Couture) and costumes (Jenny Foldenauer) recall Almodóvar and Gaultier, while the lighting design (Jeremy Pivnick) easily goes from catwalk to inferno.
