Rating: 5 out of 5.

Ditching the North East for London and brandishing a new PTSD diagnosis, Kit is armed with anti-depressants, self-defence spray, and dark humour as a coping mechanism. Lois-Amber Toole’s solo show SLAY balances light and shade, in an unflinching confrontation of trauma, misogyny, and the North-South divide.

Kit’s experiences of battling PTSD and going to therapy are never glamorised or glossed over, instead treated with care and utmost empathy. Toole’s witty, rapid-fire script communicates Kit’s struggles through unexpected black humour, mirroring her tendencies to translate her trauma into witty retorts. Even in her most flawed moments (or when she is labelled a ‘narcissist’ by her therapist) it is impossible not to feel connected to her.

Toole’s portrayal of Kit is mesmerising, diffusing tense moments with impeccably timed quips. She holds the audience in the palm of her hand, flitting between accents and morphing into various side characters from unsympathetic therapists to stuffy posh Londoners.

The use of sound to give characters and settings ‘themes’ guides the audience through the fast-paced narrative, controlling who we empathise with. A glossy, artificial jingle accompanies the rosy pink angel wings of the ‘Virginity Restoration Clinic,’ reinforcing the concept of virginity as a man-made construct.

Toole confronts ingrained classism and the North-South divide, using accent shifts to convey the implicit, deep-seated prejudice against northerners. In exploring how Kit flees her hometown, Toole delves into the relationship between place and identity, and how Kit finds power in re-visiting her North East roots.

The use of dark humour does not lessen the impact of discussions of trauma and sexual assault. A particular quip about how her flatmates’ colourful self-defence charms might as well make them Power Puff Girls earns surprised laughter, all while calling attention to a very real fear that every woman experiences. The hard-hitting ending is a raw jolt from the show’s comedic tone, plunging into hazy blue lighting as Kit relives her trauma. SLAY is urgently relevant and loudly feminist, reinforcing the power of theatre to speak for those who are silenced, and to show that they are not alone.

SLAY is running until 31 August at The Den at Gilded Balloon Teviot. Buy tickets here.

Image by Gobby Girl Productions, provided to The Student as press material.