I discovered Bryony Kimmings when I was at the Edinburgh Fringe in 2019 and her solo show then, I’m A Phoenix Bitch struck a chord with me then so I was keen to discover her latest show, ‘Bog Witch.’ Like I’m a Phoenix Bitch, Bog Witch is autobiographical and Kimmings has moved on since her last show. For Bog Witch, Kimmings has met her partner, Will, an eco-warrior and together they have decided to move to the country. However unlike the rest of their blended family Kimmings struggles to adjust to this new life and this piece charts her first year in the country through a combination of stand up, original music and her own darker monologues.
Kimmings structures her first year in the countryside around the changing seasons. The piece starts with the move there as we learn about the house itself, the barn that she works from that overlooks a huge oak tree and the bog itself, which the children are warned away from. As the show goes on we learn more about her new community in the country, the ‘coven’ that befriend her. As the seasons pass, Kimmings’ struggle intensifies as the climax of the show deals with a beautifully handled personal tragedy which resists overplaying the emotion and allows the weight of what has happened to speak for itself.
One of the shows greatest strengths is Kimmings’ ability to find an element about her struggle that is relatable even when it is something we might never admit out loud ourselves. From her confession that she is struggling enough personally to admit that she struggles to care about climate change, or her annoyance that a 350 year-old oak tree is blocking her light, or the simple fact that Jo Malone candles bring her temporary joy. All of these confessions offer a temporary ways of filling her soul hole and as the show progresses we watch as Kimmings struggles more and more to patch the hole up. It is these confessions along with the associated vulnerability that comes with them that helps the audience feel as if they are watching an old friend when Kimmings is on stage. Whilst the show sounds heavy there is a huge amount of light and shade throughout the piece. She is equally adept at getting the audience laughing with her, often with self depreciating humour, as she is moving them and this contrast really means that the harder hitting pats deliver a bigger gut punch when they do arrive.
Equally Kimmings is unflinching in her delivery, despite reliving a difficult year in her life night after night. There is something striking about watching her revisit such a personal experience yet never allowing the weight of what she is recounting to overwhelm the performance, whilst maintaining the rhythm and energy needed in a solo show. The show however delivers on not only the writing and performance but the technical design also. The set itself is a pile of soil which grows as the ‘soul hole’ grows and soon comes to symbolise the bog, gradually taking up much of the playing space. The increasingly imposing and messy pile of soil becomes a physical manifestation of Kimmings’ emotional state, gradually consuming the space in the same way it threatens to consume her. Behind her are cleverly designed projections, marking the transition from one season to the next. Her costume tells a similar story, charting her attempt to fit into her new rural surroundings whilst also reflecting the changing season.
Bog Witch is another incredibly honest piece of theatre for Kimmings, finding humour in uncomfortable places and refusing to present herself as virtuous at all times. Kimmings’ vulnerability is matched by the theatricality, with the soil, projections and costumes all helping to externalise the emotional journey at the heart of the piece. Funny, uncomfortable and moving this is an engaging piece of autobiographical theatre as Kimmings never asks the audience to sympathise with her; instead she invites us to recognise something of ourselves in the mess.
Bog Witch is on at Traverse Theatre at various times until the 30th August. You can find out more on Bryony Kimmings website here.
If you like this review you might also like my review of Dystopia 26,Darkfield, along with Bryony Kimmings’ previous production – I’m A Phoenix, Bitch.