Tag Archives: Madelaine Moore

SON OF A BITCH

★★★★

Southwark Playhouse Borough

SON OF A BITCH

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“sharp and funny solo show that offers a refreshingly candid take on motherhood”

Anna Morris’s darkly comic one-woman play Son of a Bitch arrives at Southwark Playhouse following a successful run at the 2024 Edinburgh Festival Fringe. With a provocative title and an intriguing premise, the show delves into themes of motherhood, societal pressure, and personal regret, balancing sharp humour with moments of introspection.

The play follows Marnie (played by Morris), a yoga instructor in her late 30s, whose life is upended when a fellow passenger records her calling her young son the C-word during a flight. The video goes viral, but rather than focusing on the fallout of this moment, the narrative primarily explores the lead-up to this event, questioning the unspoken realities of motherhood.

Morris delivers an energetic and engaging performance, effortlessly slipping into the various characters that populate Marnie’s world. From her overbearing northern mother to her intensely posh flatmate, Morris’s character work is sharply observed and often very funny. The writing brims with witty one-liners, earning consistent laughs; a line about men who look like prawns and another about depressed women in bathtubs get particularly loud chuckles. There’s a definite influence of stand-up comedy in Morris’s delivery, adding a lively rhythm to the script.

Under Madelaine Moore’s direction, the production is tightly paced and effectively staged, ensuring that the transitions between past and present feel fluid and dynamic. Visually, the production is cleverly designed. The set consists of corporate blue carpeted flooring, a white chair at its centre, and two curved “C” shape structures forming a circular shape behind it; an effective nod both to the claustrophobic setting of an aeroplane and a visual play on the word Marnie uses against her child. Lighting Design by Megan Lucas subtly shifts to reflect different moods: cold and corporate one moment, then warm and golden as Marnie parodies the ‘glow’ of motherhood. Another standout element is the use of captioning, also designed by Lucas. Displayed in a rectangular screen above the stage, the captions adapt in font and style to represent different speakers and even simulate text messages, demonstrating a well-thought-out integration of accessibility and storytelling.

The narrative structure of Son of a Bitch mirrors the spiralling nature of Marnie’s situation, moving fluidly between past and present. While this approach effectively builds intrigue, it could sometimes do with further clarity, with a multitude of names and details occasionally jumping around too loosely. Additionally, while Marnie’s husband is positioned as an unsympathetic figure – choosing to upgrade himself to business class rather than sit with his wife and child – his character feels somewhat two-dimensional, leaving questions about why these two people were together in the first place.

Beneath the humour, the play raises compelling questions about societal expectations of motherhood. A particularly striking moment comes when Marnie is asked whether she would regret not having children, only for her to subvert the question and ask what would happen instead if she regrets having one. There’s also an underexplored but poignant subplot involving a gay friend who reveals that his lack of children wasn’t a choice, but something he had to grieve. These moments hint at deeper, thought-provoking themes, though at times they feel fleeting.

While the play is consistently engaging, its pacing remains largely unchanged throughout. Moments that could have built towards greater emotional intensity or a stronger sense of escalation maintain the same rhythm, which at times lessens the dramatic impact. However, Morris’s charisma ensures the piece remains compelling. She establishes an immediate rapport with the audience, and her command of comedy ensures that the story is as entertaining as it is thought-provoking.

Overall, this is a sharp and funny solo show that offers a refreshingly candid take on motherhood. While its central premise is striking, the surrounding narrative could delve deeper into its themes. Nonetheless, Morris’s performance is magnetic, making this an enjoyable and insightful performance.



SON OF A BITCH

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 18th February 2025

by Joseph Dunitz

Photography by Steve Gregson

 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

SCISSORHANDZ | ★★★ | January 2025
CANNED GOODS | ★★★ | January 2025
THE MASSIVE TRAGEDY OF MADAME BOVARY | ★★★ | December 2024
THE HAPPIEST MAN ON EARTH | ★★★★★ | November 2024
[TITLE OF SHOW] | ★★★ | November 2024
THE UNGODLY | ★★★ | October 2024
FOREVERLAND | ★★★★ | October 2024
JULIUS CAESAR | ★★★ | September 2024
DORIAN: THE MUSICAL | ★★½ | July 2024
THE BLEEDING TREE | ★★★★ | June 2024
FUN AT THE BEACH ROMP-BOMP-A-LOMP!! | ★★★ | May 2024
MAY 35th | ★★★½ | May 2024

 

SON OF A BITCH

SON OF A BITCH

SON OF A BITCH

SANTI & NAZ

★★★★

Soho Theatre

SANTI & NAZ

Soho Theatre

★★★★

“Innocence and playfulness mingle with a satire that bites when we least expect it”

Guleraana Mir’s beautifully constructed short play, “Santi and Naz”, is a deceptively innocent and poetic account of an enduring friendship between two young women who grew up in pre-partition India. They are living in an unnamed village, soon to be split in two by new borders that sliced through the lives of millions of unsettled people. The blood spilled still stains the ground decades later. The play, however, avoids making any political commentary on the consequences of (and widespread opposition to) partition. Instead, it zooms in on the very personal effects. And by looking at the world through childish eyes, it becomes more emotively powerful.

Nehru’s (in)famous ‘Tryst with Destiny’ address opens the play, his crackling voiceover heralding the ‘stroke of the midnight hour’. As his words fall and fracture onto a darkened stage, Santi (Aiyana Bartlett) is writing a letter, destined never to be delivered, to childhood friend Naz (Farah Ashraf). The intimacy is ingrained in her memories. Laura Howard’s evocative lighting shifts to warmer shades and we find Santi and Naz years earlier, playing games, dancing, teasing and swooning over the local heartthrob. It is a coming-of-age story whose lightness belies the darkness lurking beneath. Over time that darkness spreads like a shadow between them – a representation of the cultural changes that force them apart. The performances are undeniably strong throughout: Bartlett’s vulnerable and romantic Santi seeking shelter in books and writing, while Ashraf’s more defiant Naz seeks to defy the arranged marriage that threatens her dreams of happiness.

Mir’s script (co-written with afshan d’souza-lodhi) has a natural flow, accentuated by the gorgeous chemistry between the two performers. Innocence and playfulness mingle with a satire that bites when we least expect it. Occasionally the writing confuses, and we are unsure whether there is a sexual undertone to their friendship; but we never doubt the resilience and indestructible strength of their connection. A connection that remains even when separated. Bartlett and Ashraf evocatively present a personal tragedy that mirrors the political one. It skirts around it at times and occasionally overlooks its Western audience, but ultimately it does shine a light on an often-misunderstood period of history.

It is, unfortunately, a universal story. Santi is Sikh and Naz is Muslim; a fact that is neither here nor there for them. Until the British withdrawal. The pair interject their dialogue with uncannily accurate impersonations of the key figures – such as Gandhi and Mountbatten – the latter especially whose actions and decisions affected the lives of those he had little connection with or knowledge about. The weight of the events ‘forces the air from our lungs’ as Naz points out. ‘I no longer know where my people are’.

Poignantly, we come full cycle for the play’s conclusion. Separated on the stage by a wedge of black light, the two characters are back where they started. Looking back, they are both yearning for the other. A friendship divided, a culture split apart, and a country thrown into two opposing sides. The line is drawn. But we are pulled back into the deeply personal: two people who refuse to see their differences. A heartfelt tale of innocence and experience that earns, and deserves, our undivided attention.

 

SANTI & NAZ

Soho Theatre

Reviewed on 23rd January 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Paul Blakemore

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

BALL & BOE – FOR FOURTEEN NIGHTS ONLY | ★★★★ | December 2024
GINGER JOHNSON BLOWS OFF! | ★★★ | September 2024
COLIN HOULT: COLIN | ★★★★ | September 2024
VITAMIN D | ★★★★ | September 2024
THE DAO OF UNREPRESENTATIVE BRITISH CHINESE EXPERIENCE | ★★★★ | June 2024
BABY DINOSAUR | ★★★ | June 2024
JAZZ EMU | ★★★★★ | June 2024
BLIZZARD | ★★★★ | May 2024
BOYS ON THE VERGE OF TEARS | ★★★★ | April 2024
SPENCER JONES: MAKING FRIENDS | ★★★★ | April 2024
DON’T. MAKE. TEA. | ★★★★★ | March 2024
PUDDLES PITY PARTY | ★★ | March 2024

SANTI & NAZ

SANTI & NAZ

SANTI & NAZ