Words: Rosie Hall

3 stars

Marty Breen’s BITCH defies genre. At once drag, stand-up comedy, musical and polemic, it seems the last thing it could be is a play. Breen plays both of the main characters: the sauntering, cap-wearing Stand Up Guy and the eponymous Bitch, and transitions deftly moves between the two. The use of different coloured washes of lighting illuminates two distinct faces on the performer: stubble and thick brows when she is the Stand Up Guy and eyeliner and lipstick when she is the Bitch. The blocking, too, which sees the Stand Up Guy slouching at stage left and the Bitch hunched maniacally over the piano at stage right, is incredibly simple, but effectively renders the neuroses of the two opposing characters, slowly but surely. 

And it is slow, to start with. For all the frenzied piano-banging and straight-male-stand-up guffawing, the piece flounders slightly at the start, lacking cohesion and style. The show is carried along by Breen’s impressive, high-octane vocals, which command attention even when the topics at hand feel nebulous. The simmering of rage from stage right eventually shows signs of boiling over with a witty and sardonic song about compulsory heterosexuality. And boil over it does, when the relationship between the Stand Up Guy and the Bitch is revealed for what it really is. Stand Up Guy is silenced, and the Bitch takes the floor.

Though the initial lull is arguably necessary for the sucker-punch that is to come, it is difficult to argue for the unadulterated success of a piece that feels like it is close to losing its audience in the first half. But that very pay-off in the second half is incredibly arresting and urgent, a searing diatribe of blame culture and a heart-wrenching reflection on the nature of victimhood.

BITCH
Pleasance Dome Jack Dome
14.45
30th Jul – 25th Aug