Written by Leah Shelton

Directed by Ursula Martinez

Review by Dominic Corr

Traverse Theatre – Traverse Two : Tickets

Undoubtedly, one of the most technically advanced and high-value productions at the Fringe this year is the European premiere of Leah Shelton’s BATSHIT. This solo performance is a masterclass in technical execution, offering an absurdist reflection on the patriarchal psychological diagnoses that have historically controlled and fetishized women’s mental health. The narrative is primarily based on the experiences of Shelton’s grandmother, Gwen, who was subjected to counter-productive ‘treatments’ in a mental health institution in Western Australia in the sixties.

Perfectly pitched at fifty minutes, performance artist Ursula ­Martinez’s direction utilises space and physicality in tremendous ways. Any longer, and the intensity of the show would dilute. However, some of the audience may still find it too much. The hyper-realism of the set design is magnificent and graphic, yet simple and clean. Even with the Edinburgh-wide power shortages disrupting some projection designs, the effort and dexterity in manifesting fears, fantasies, and reality are often (deliberately) overwhelming. From Shelton’s emergence, writhing and crawling to their fluid use of the entire space, there’s certainly more than just a sharp edge to BATSHIT.

Threading the line between despondent tragedy and expressive movement piece, Shelton’s unsettling, though still approachable performance, initially draped in evening gown and opera gloves, wielding an axe with a suspiciously elongated arm, shifting costumes and tone, at one point ‘silenced’ with a medical strap-gag. It’s nothing short of sheer dedication; one few others could give as much of themselves to as Shelton: an iconic performance. The dreaded audience interaction, while a touch on the nose, is carried well with Shelton’s stapled-on Cheshire grin, the leading and seemingly innocuous questions all feeding into the audience being as much in this experimental piece as Shelton.

Jason Glenwright’s assertive and intimidating lighting, coupled with Kenneth Lyons’s masterful sound design, creates an immersive experience in BATSHIT. The production becomes a tangible experience for all in the room as it delves into the affliction that predominantly afflicts women: hysteria. The carefully selected vox pops and the use of the knackered day-room television add depth to the discussions of women’s liberation and the recent court case of Amber Heard and Johnny Depp, driving home the subject with impactful (if heavy-handed) force.

And amidst this neo-Victorian tiling and oppressive, heavy air, BATSHIT is strikingly tender and fascinating in equal value – an eye-opening production for those shut away from the truth through ignorance, choice, or deliberate misinformation. This is I Love Lucy smashed with David Lynch, with the electroconvulsive therapy scene in Return to Oz thrown in for added measure. Intensive, a maelstrom of female history and rage, erupting with life and colour against a clinically frozen backdrop, a stark and sterile environment that serves as a powerful contrast to the vibrant performance.

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