Let’s get this straight. This show is bent – at all the right angles. But as a reviewer where do you start with a show that is exhilarating, mournful, dark, brooding, funny, original, fascinating, and oh-so-deeply-personal?
Bryony Kimmings’ latest work, 'I’m a Phoenix, Bitch' is one hundred minutes of cutting-edge theatre where performance art, mind-bending storytelling, horror movies, pop music and imaginative stage design combine with a trip to the therapist to deal with post-traumatic stress disorder.But it is much more than that. 'I’m a Phoenix, Bitch' is also a wacky, off-the-wall, one-woman theatre piece about love, loss, trauma, motherhood, postnatal depression, feminism, finding strength and eventual recovery. And that’s just for starters. Bryony Kimmings’ solo performance is also exciting, brutal, confronting, intensely painful and uplifting all at once.
Like all of her works, it is deeply personal, this time chronicling the moment in 2015 when she broke up with her boyfriend, and in the process lost her mind, lost her home and very nearly lost her baby.
There she is alone on a sparsely set stage, vulnerable, exhausted, angry and desperately wanting to right the world – her world – and still remain compassionate, loving and a supportive mother, while reliving the horrors of what could only be described as a catastrophic three years of her life.
The show is tied together by a series of mini-movies, brilliant pop-infused songs (written by Tom Parkinson) and a weird male voice to tell a story which is heartbreakingly sad and almost impossible to comprehend, unless of course you’ve been there yourself.
As the show progresses we’re presented with the various personas of the same performer. We’re introduced to anti-feminist, vulnerable, righteous, strong, distraught, empowered, and overwhelmed Kimmings; we see a different person as she dons wacky wigs, gym gear and a red sequined dress and alternates between characters including her therapist, a social worker and her son, who almost died from the effects of grand mal epilepsy.
Combining beautifully detailed sets, breathtaking video projections, an original soundtrack and exquisite lighting, the deftly crafted script leaves room for Bryony to speak about deeply personal and difficult subjects. But despite the emotional roller coaster we share, Bryony doesn’t appear maudlin. Instead, she exerts strength – both mental and physical – delivering an extraordinary piece of theatre which transports the audience into her strange (or deranged?) world one steady step at a time.
Bryony unconditionally surrenders herself to her audience, giving us unfettered access to her vision and experience of life and in doing so reinforces the fact that art can indeed change lives. Throughout this astonishingly powerful, funny, enigmatic, and brutally honest performance we are enriched and hopefully inspired to confront own fears, learning to trust ourselves and the way we deal with the maelstrom that life can throw up without notice. Sheer brilliance.
★★★★★
