With a hint of Rocky Horror, the films of Derek Jarman, and more than a spoonful of attitude, Adrien Rosza’s bizarre jukebox musical The Bitter Pill was my first show at this year’s Camden Fringe.
Even before we descend into the performance space below the Libra Cafe (just a short walk from Chalk Farm station), we are pulled into the ‘End of the World’ as Flood makes his first trip underground.
Rosza (who also co-directs with Lizzie Peters) has conjured up an unsettling, semi-immersive space where we sit at tables and observe the goings-on.
‘Leave your gender at the door’, is one rule of this club, and it becomes clear that gender norms and expectations don’t matter here.
Rosza, focused and dangerous (Ray) and Peters, calm and intense (Breeze) make up a third of the cast in this show (“an unapologetic love letter to the queer experience with an all-LGBTQ+ cast and creative team”).
Geoffrey Berrisford plays Flood, the newbie who firsts awkwardly stays on the sidelines before getting drawn in to the tune of “The Lovecats”. He’s our nervous eyes and ears.
It’s an eclectic roster of songs including New Order, The Beatles, and Elton John. Root (a resigned Beth Corrigan), Ash (a malevolent Percy Harte), Spark (a slinky Leoni Bestwick) offer different perspectives on characters who haven’t aged a day since as far back as the 50s.
The choreography by Peters is both New Age and other-worldly, while the world of assumed names and presumed kink suggests hedonistic and fetish worlds.
It’s a show of around 90 minutes, so longer than most of the shows on Camden’s roster. It could offer a little more of the immersive (a hand stamp or wristband, perhaps), and I really felt the closing number lent itself to the audience joining in.
As it stands, The Bitter Pill might benefit from a little more thought about dialogue and music levels fit together, and decoration of the space might reinforce the club’s limbo and playful status.
Flood’s story seems to have potential for development, along with backstory for the others. Costume choices were period-perfect for each, from corsets to Pulp Fiction themed jackets.
I did wonder about the significance of glasses and gloves, and the wearing (or not) of them during the piece, and Flood’s fingerless gloves were a puzzle.
These are small points for a show that offers a strong perspective on alternative spaces and gender fluidity.
The Bitter Pill (each table was given a glass full of them, but only the cast consumed them) is quirky, personal, and yes, unapologetic.
I wait to see how it develops and what Rosza does next with his unusual talent.
The Bitter Pill is part of Camden Fringe, with a further performances at the Libra Cafe on 30 Jul.
I’m giving this 3 stars.