ajhlovestheatre

BLOODY ELLE

written and performed by Lauryn Redding

directed by Bryony Shanahan

Soho Theatre, London – until 29 July 2023; then Edinburgh Fringe Festival – 8-13 August 2023

https://sohotheatre.com/events/bloody-elle/

https://www.traverse.co.uk/whats-on/event/bloody-elle-festival-23

Even if the individual elements of Lauryn Redding’s captivating solo show aren’t particularly original – first love, coming out, class divide, gig theatre – they are whipped up into a fresh, funny confection that showcases a singular talent while sweeping the audience along on a tide of affection, poignancy and genuine exhilaration. It’s also laugh-out-loud funny.

Redding plays Elle (full name Danielle, but only her Mum calls her that), a mouthy but loveable and mostly self aware young woman working in a fast food joint up North and songwriting and gigging on the side. Her world is turned upside down by the arrival of Evelyn, from a wealthy family and marking time with a temp job amongst the chips and dips they’re serving before heading off to University. Plot wise, that’s pretty much it, apart from a conclusion that feels predictable even though it provides a satisfying emotional button on the whole ninety minute show.

The real pleasure here (and there’s a lot of it) is in watching Redding morph like a chameleon into the different figures in Elle’s world, from her raucous mother, her monosyllabic but unexpectedly heroic male co-worker, another who is a swaggering, womanising jerk, their patient but eccentric Welsh boss, and of course Eve herself, a posh kid with “eyes the colour of guacamole” who could so easily become a one-note caricature but never does. Redding is a brilliant physical comedian and vocal impressionist, and her rapport with an audience is a thing of immediacy and joy.

Then there is her singing. She has a voice full of guts, soul and sweetness, somewhat reminiscent of the hallowed Adele, with an extraordinarily wide range. There are times when it sounds as though it’s being ripped out of her very soul, and it is spellbinding. The songs, and fragments of songs, have a haunting, insistent quality, as they throb with longing or joy-filled uplift, and work in perfect counterpoint to, and in tandem with, the salty, enjoyable, rhyme-heavy text.

Gritty yet enchanting, Bloody Elle is a winning combination of storytelling, standup, outstanding actor-musicianship (Redding is a superb guitarist) that unerringly captures the sugar rush of new romance and the greyed-out disillusion that can sometimes follow it. If the difference in social strata that Elle and Eve originate from is painted in somewhat crude brushstrokes, the principal characters, as embodied by Redding under Bryony Shanahan’s immaculate, energised direction which sees her ricocheting around a bare stage before stopping for sudden moments of exquisite, riveting stillness, are so irresistible it barely matters.

Bloody Elle is a total delight. At the performance I saw, a young woman near the front yelled “we love you” just as the show was drawing to it’s close, and it wasn’t clear if she meant Lauryn or her alter ego Elle: doesn’t matter, that audience member was speaking for all of us.