Marnie had a husband who she loved, a son, an encouraging support network and, finally, a job that she actually liked. Marnie’s life was perfect before ‘the incident’…or was it? In the wake of unintentionally becoming the subject of a viral video, where she is caught calling her 4 year old son a c*nt, Marnie looks back on her life. Picking through pieces of the wreckage, she wonders if she caused her own downfall or if her personal circumstances made it inevitable…

This show made its debut at Edinburgh Fringe at Summerhall in August 2024 to great acclaim. It won a Fringe First award for outstanding new writing but what makes this show particularly noteworthy is its emphasis on making ‘regular theatre’ (a.k.a. theatre which isn’t about disability) fully accessible. During the run, they regularly offered a BSL interpreter and relaxed performance audience guides. They have furthered this endeavour for the current production at Southwark Playhouse Borough by integrating captions as part of every performance, continuing to offer free audience guides and regularly offering BSL and relaxed performances. Additionally, they are due to host a Q & A about making accessible shows as neurodiverse creatives on 5 March.

The design of the show is very minimalistic, consisting of a caption screen, a chair, strip lights and two semi-circle practical lights. The costume design mimics the set in this sense as Anna Morris, who is the writer and performer of the show, only wears one costume: a simple bubblegum pink jumpsuit. The simplicity of these creative design choices allows for the writing of the show to stand out, which is particularly important due to the fact that the show is a monologue. Not to mention that these elements work to create a sense of inescapable claustrophobia, both within the interior world of the play (the plane and social media platforms) and the exterior world (society’s views about women in relation to motherhood) throughout the whole show.

The captioning itself is really well designed and adds an additional layer of context to the various settings of the play, such as the airport, through its integration with graphic design. They are able to create a sense of separation between what is spoken by the various characters to Marnie in person and what is said to her online, meaning that the show is able to give clarity without cluttering the stage with screens.

Acting wise, there is a benefit to Morris also having written the show because she understands her character’s motivations and background on a more intimate level than actors who are interpreting the role with minimal to no input from the writer. As an actress, Morris has impeccable comedic timing and her ability to shift between emotions is stunning. She fully embodies Marnie, showing her as a victim of a broken system without victim blaming or shaming her. If anything, Marnie has a level of deep complexity, which can be easy to miss in solo shows, and really challenges us to consider how we impose our personal views on other people. That being said, we think that Morris’s vocal technique could be improved because there are times when it can be hard to differentiate between the characters without the captioning.

It's important to keep in mind how essential the director and producers become in offering and encouraging an outside creative perspective. In this sense, we think that the direction could be more visually interesting due to its repetitiveness within the hour-long show: Morris stands, walks around the stage a bit, sits for a bit and that’s about it. The most visually interesting part of the show is the part where Marnie points at audience members to ask them reflective rhetorical questions.

The script itself is second to none. It is powerful and nuanced, and gives a particularly unique perspective: that of the mother who never wanted to be a mother. It metaphorically stabs at perceptions of women and motherhood and leaves blood pooling all over the floor. It addresses the social expectations of women to have kids, to want to have kids or to even like kids, and challenges us to consider whether we still prescribe to these outdated notions even in our new age society. It bluntly forces us to watch the detrimental impact these attitudes have on mental health. It is overtly feminist whilst still exploring other points of view in order to further make a statement, especially in regards to discussions about abortion and queerness.

At times, it can be an uncomfortable watch because it goes so deeply into the current condition of women as being pulled apart by those who are supposed to offer love and support both online and in person. It warns us of the dangers of impulse decisions in regards to social media. It forces us to confront our own personal failings at the times when we’ve criticised someone without considering our own lack of knowledge about the situation and the impact our words will have on that person.

Fundamentally, it offers a perspective that is rarely, if ever, presented on stage: the woman who isn’t entirely sure what she wants to do with her life but knows full well that children are not a part of it. The play doesn’t shame Marnie for her actions, instead arguing that everyone around her does without making any kind of attempt to even try to understand what actually happened. This play gives a voice to female identifying people who don’t fit into stereotypical ‘girl culture’, whilst validating our fears by saying that society can be scary and difficult to navigate. Sometimes you don’t need a ‘happy ending’, sometimes you just need to be sensitive and emotional. Sometimes you need to vent without external input or advice. Sometimes you need to call your 4 year old a c*nt without judgement because parenting is difficult enough without having been pressured into it.

An open letter to society, a decisive calling for change. A love song for the female identifying outsider. A protest to redefine ‘mother’.

**** Four stars

Reviewed by: Megan O’Neill

Son of a Bitch plays at Southwark Playhouse Borough until 15 March, with further info here.