In Sickness and in Health: ‘Speaking of Hilary’ on the Vows of Friendship
How can you prove what only you know to be true? How do you prove it to yourself? I recently caught the Theatre Kingston Fringe production of Speaking of Hilary, written by Elias Campbell, at the Tett Centre for Creativity and Learning. Stuck in a pent up wave of dissatisfaction, Hilary (Mimi Matamoros) becomes obsessive over her health concerns and conditions, diagnosing all negative feelings as physical malady. Often confiding in her unnamed close friend (Chantal Grace), the play follows their relationship’s eventual strain as her confidant falls into the role of caretaker. The story explores the relation between physical and mental health, and how the proximity of each can take priority from the other.
Speaking of Hilary, as presented at TK Fringe, is wonderfully produced and beautifully performed. The space works in favor of this production, the intimate size and cornered set making you feel as if you’re in the small apartment of post-grad students. When the setting does change, it almost feels inconsequential; as long Hilary and her friend are speaking, they are each other’s entire world. Actors Mimi Matamoros and Chantal Grace did a great job balancing the chemistry of the two; right off the bat you get the sense that these friends feel a wide array of affections for each other. Moments turn romantic, then alleviate friendliness again. You feel anxious with the thought of will they, won’t they?
Matamoros is raw and honest as Hilary. Every conversation flows with her intensity and humour. Hilary is a jaded character, meticulously layered and well-handled by her actress—to play her as a cowardly aggressive would be too easy. Matamoros is devoted to the truth of Hilary, from her camaraderie and gentleness to her fearful outbursts. Chantal Grace plays the realist. Pragmatic about all things but Hilary, she attempts to decode the inexplicable distance Hilary is staking between herself and the world. As the friend fumbles into the role of caretaker, she walks the line of defending herself and understanding Hilary. The two actors beautifully portray the push and pull of their relationship.
Seamlessly directed by Hannah Whitmore, the performers transition between scenes as if not a theatre production at all, giving the show a strange temporal effect. They immediately switch into the next scene, continuing dialogue while lighting changes distinguish settings. We know time has passed—days, maybe even months—but the transitions are instantaneous. Through the whole piece, they never both leave the stage at once, keeping audiences completely in the moment. The moving of props and objects are all in-world—framed as actions the characters naturally take themselves, instead of serving some theatrical purpose. In this way, the girls keep a close aesthetic distance, never becoming the “transition zombies” so often accepted in theatre. The immediacy of the emotional story exulted by this action adds a weight to its entirety: you don’t get a moment to look away.
Nothing in Speaking of Hilary exists in clarity: the two girls walk a world of in-betweens. In this compelling story of loyalty and heartache, Hilary and her friend attempt to navigate the muddy waters of mental and physical health, all while trying to hold onto each other. I was immensely impressed by the genuine dialogue and authentic delivery, and recommend this show to all theatre goers.
‘Speaking of Hilary’ runs until August 15 at the Tett Centre as part of the 2026 TK Fringe Festival. For tickets and more information, click here.
