Review: Really Good Exposure (Soho Theatre)

Review by Dan Ghigeanu

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Child stars often evoke envy with their fame, attention, and the early success, but in Really Good Exposure, Megan Prescott peels back the glossy exterior of growing up in the spotlight to reveal a far darker and more complex reality. This raw and compelling one-woman show, based on true events, is playing at Soho Theatre in London following a very successful run at the Edinburgh Fringe, where it won Best Fringe Debut and earned a nomination for the BBC Popcorn Writers' Award in 2024, telling the harrowing yet empowering story of Molly Thomas, a former child actor whose trajectory takes her from television fame to the adult entertainment industry. This one-woman show is a compelling and courageous piece of theatre.

Written and performed by Megan Prescott herself, the show explores the blurred lines between consent, control, and commodification in the entertainment industry. This is no typical tale of a fallen celebrity, instead she constructs a nuanced and deeply human portrait of a girl struggling to maintain autonomy in a world determined to commodify her body and story. Directed with precision and empathy by Fiona Kingwill, Really Good Exposure is an emotionally charged piece of theatre that challenges the way we consume stories about women in the public eye.

The play opens with Molly in the present day as she recounts her journey to an off-stage producer, who looks to capitalise on her painful history by turning it into a marketable TV show. This framing device, Molly conversing with a figure who wants to “rebrand” her story, allows for a seamless juxtaposition of her present self with the younger, vulnerable girl she once was. Through this lens, the audience is invited to witness both the trauma and the resilience that have defined her existence.

Molly's early life is shaped by a toxic blend of parental expectations. Her mother, fixated on her daughter’s physical appearance and marketability, constantly pushes her to conform to social standards of beauty, being discouraged from eating at McDonald's to avoid "thick thighs," to having her dance lessons stopped in favour of acting classes. The weight of her mother’s expectations becomes clear early in the show. Megan Prescott’s portrayal of this relationship is chilling in its subtlety, offering a devastating look at the way childhood agency is stripped away under the disguise of parental love.

Her entry into the world of acting is marked by an agent who immediately deems her accent "wrong," sending her off to a dialect coach, a moment which signals the start of Molly’s professional trajectory, which begins with excitement but soon sours. She lands a significant role on a teen drama, Meat, but the jubilation of success quickly turns into objectification. Her first major scene involves simulating intercourse with an older man, an experience that leaves her emotionally confused. Megan Prescott’s writing, and her nuanced performance of this scene, highlighting the disconnect between a young girl’s innocence and what the adult world’s demands for her body, create a haunting feeling that encapsulates the emotional cost of early fame.

As Molly’s career progresses, the theme of commodification becomes even more clear. Her rise to fame is tied not to her acting ability, but to the scandalous scene in Meat. The recognition she receives is not celebratory; it’s tinged with lust and exploitation. In casting rooms, she’s typecast into roles that further exploit her physicality and her first major film role she is offered requires full nudity, a request Molly questions but ultimately fulfils. The fallout from that choice is disastrous, not leading to more opportunities, but instead ending her career in a downward spiral.

The tonal shifts are navigated in an exceptional manner. One of the most poignant and disturbing moments occurs when Molly auditions for a stripper role, and the casting director’s voiceover urges her to strip fully naked, pushing the boundaries of decency under the pretext of “authenticity,” and while reluctant at first Molly complies in the end. Megan Prescott’s performance here is painfully raw. Her discomfort is palpable, and the audience is left in shock, sensing both the vulnerability and the abuse masked as professionalism. It’s a harrowing moment that lays bare the destructive forces at play within the entertainment industry.

Molly’s relationships with others mirror the disempowerment she faces professionally. Her brief romantic encounters are tainted by the way she’s perceived; her worth reduced to her character’s sex appeal rather than her own identity. In one particularly heartbreaking scene, she learns that a man she believed to be interested in her was only interested in sleeping with her as he wanted to sleep with Jordan, her character from Meat. This moment punctuates the emotional isolation Molly endures as she is being reduced to a fictional symbol rather than a normal person as she struggles to find intimacy in the real world.

As Molly’s life spirals further, she finds herself tangled in an undercover operation, framed as complicit in a stripper sexual scandal. She is vilified by the media, dropped by her agent, and eventually resorts to taking part in a reality dating show to salvage her image. The irony is not lost on the audience, as this moment cleverly critiques the commodification of women’s trauma in the public eye. The show’s resolution, however, is one of defiance rather than defeat. Molly chooses to enter the adult entertainment industry, but on her own terms. Her decision is not one of capitulation, but a final act of self-possession, a reclaiming of her body and her story.

Megan Prescott’s performance is at the heart of this production. Her ability to shift between vulnerability, anger, humour, and defiance is nothing short of extraordinary. She portrays Molly with a fierce complexity, her performance is both raw and refined, balancing moments of painful introspection with sharp, witty commentary. Her writing is equally impressive as it is intelligent, incisive, and emotionally charged. Each word feels deliberate, and every moment on stage lands with purpose.

The technical aspects of the production complement the storytelling effectively. Fiona Kingwill’s direction ensures that the pacing stays dynamic and fluid, while the use of pre-recorded audio for the voices of supporting characters, agents, parents, casting directors, serves to heighten Molly’s isolation and the sense that she is constantly being talked at and rarely heard. This clever device underscores the tension at the heart of the show: Molly’s struggle for autonomy in an industry that seeks to control her.

Really Good Exposure is a blistering critique of an industry that profits from the exploitation of young women. It is a story of resilience, self-discovery, and the reclaiming of one’s own narrative. Megan Prescott’s raw, courageous performance anchors a show that is not only a harrowing portrayal of the perils of fame but a powerful declaration of survival. Molly Thomas may have started as a product of others’ expectations, but by the end, she is something far more powerful: her own creation. This is a show that will make you rethink the narratives we consume and the cost of the stories we tell. Bold, brave, and brilliantly executed, Really Good Exposure is show that demands to be seen.

Really Good Exposure plays at Soho Theatre until September 13th

For tickets and information visit https://sohotheatre.com/events/really-good-exposure-by-megan-prescott/

Photos by Damian Robertson