Emily Carr presents a one-woman tour-de-force, a beautifully blunt exorcism of unrealistic expectations as captivatingly honest as it is tumultuously hilarious. Nominated in 2018 for Best Comedy at the Melbourne Fringe Festival for her work QUEENZ and performing regularly with the Mystery Radio Theatre Company, this is her debut solo show. And what a show it is – Emily Carr presents Beige Bitch with such infectious energy and charisma, taking her audience on a journey through carefully crafted
Emily Carr presents a one-woman tour-de-force, a beautifully blunt exorcism of unrealistic expectations as captivatingly honest as it is tumultuously hilarious. Nominated in 2018 for Best Comedy at the Melbourne Fringe Festival for her work QUEENZ and performing regularly with the Mystery Radio Theatre Company, this is her debut solo show. And what a show it is – Emily Carr presents Beige Bitch with such infectious energy and charisma, taking her audience on a journey through carefully crafted sketches accompanied by the tightest PowerPoint presentation I’ve seen in a while.
In sketch segments, Carr tells the story of Character X and her failed pursuits of self-imposed perfection and stardom. With bombastic wit and larger than life characterisations, Carr delves deep into the failed millennial dream – the slow and horrific realisation that you’re not actually all that special. Grimly relatable, there are many segments in the show where Carr gets all too real – moments where she forces you to look deep within yourself and confront your mediocrity head-on.
Somewhat terrifyingly, the show begins with a warning that the show will contain (much to the shock and horror of my friend and me, who were seated in the second row) audience participation. To my surprise – and to Emily Carr’s credit, as audience participation can be terrifying and occasionally insufferable – it was implemented incredibly well. A couple of highlights of these moments of audience interaction were Carr presenting the audience with prompts on cards to be read out and a segment where she marries an audience member to their mediocrity.
The show’s theme has come at perhaps a perfect time after the coronavirus pandemic – it’s okay just to be okay. Tackling and dissecting the pressure that society places on many of us to be the most – the most woke, the most famous, the most beautiful – Carr elaborates that it’s a statistical impossibility for us to all achieve those levels of greatness. It’s brutal in its honesty but delivered with characteristic bubbliness and charisma that truly elevates the show.
Very fittingly with the show's themes, Beige Bitch wasn’t even the show we had tickets to that night. My partner and I were supposed to see Killing Rove – the stand-up show that was happening simultaneously in the same venue and walked into the wrong room; by the time we realised we were in the wrong show, it felt way too awkward to leave because we were in the second row and were too terrified of confrontation. In this way, Beige Bitch was indeed a surprise, a show that I went into completely blind with no expectations (we were quite literally there for a different show) and emerged with a massive smile on my face and a comedian to add to my list for future festival watches.
Described by Emily Carr herself as an “exorcism of perfection”, Beige Bitch is a powerful show that has the capacity to both rock you to your core and leave you laughing about it.