Review: I Am But A Tiny Little Lady – Edinburgh Horror Fest 24

Following up from the excellent ‘Worm Teeth’ at this year’s Edinburgh Fringe, theatremaker and performer Kelsey Sullivan returned with ‘I Am But A Tiny Little Lady’ as part of the 2024 Edinburgh Horror Festival, and produced by SMaK Productions, founded by Sullivan, Jenna Meadows, and Abrah Ophelia Katzman earlier this year.

The four short shows exploring the icky and sticky side of being a woman open upon the ‘Drooly Dames’, a post-apocalyptic bunch of highly genial cannibals. The 5 (very) strong cast of Grace Murray, Yota Kallini, Rebecca Malone, Jacqueline Wilde, plus Sullivan, certainly hit the horrific ground running. Whilst consuming the remains of a recently hunted friend they debate what makes for moister, more tender flesh, settling upon ‘the desire to live’ as the ultimate seasoning. The constant sound of chewing makes for a singular soundtrack as the assembled tribe seel meaning whilst picking their friend apart – literally.

” The 5 strong cast of Grace Murray, Yota Kallini, Rebecca Malone, Jacqueline Wilde, plus Sullivan, certainly hit the horrific ground running.”

Sullivan, bursting through took centre stage next with an enthusiastic ode to woman-kind. Part political manifesto, part slam poetry, and encompassing as much of the reality of female life as possible in a few moments. Channelling obsessive cheerleader, Sullivan’s wild and comic ‘I love women’ monologue blasted across the audience, leaving them mostly inspired, if a little concerned.

The second short followed, opening on the ‘Clingy Queen’, a woman left home alone by her beloved boyfriend with only a spider for a babysitter. It certainly doesn’t help that our Queen is arachnophobic, but if anything this is the most genial of the four vignettes. Think avant-garde Charlotte’s Web and you won’t be too far away from this weirdly pleasant micro-fable.

The third short introduced the ‘Stinky Girls’ – two best friends on a sleepover, and gleefully sharing secrets. Tonally the stuff of any number of sitcoms, their conversation is anything but. “Picking at your dead toe skin?!” gives way to secret gorging, adventure puking, self-surgery, self-cannibalism, and…well you get the idea. “You horrify me!” exclaims one, “You make me feel unsafe!” enthuses the other, as they bond over their shared ‘stinkiness’. This is dark laugh-out-loud comedy filled with the queasiest of body-horror, yet undeniably affirming.

Last, but not least, arrived the ‘Bloomy Babe’, following instructions from a spoken-word manual for culturing bacteria from her living skin – it’s one way to make friends. Unfortunately, instead of sugar and spice, our heroine finds the fruits of her own body to be darker and more troubling. The result was a memorable finale, thanks to an excellent physical performance and simple but highly effective practical effects.

“It’s dark, comic, filled with the queasiest of body-horror, yet weirdly affirming stuff.”

If there’s more plot exposition in this review than I would normally indulge in, I consider it necessary as these four distinct shorts deserve individual attention. The clear thematic link binds them together, making for a cohesive experience, but in seeking to span so many tones and genres, Sullivan does exhibit huge ambition. That it works so well speaks to writing with clear internal logic fuelled by sparkling abstract thought. Bravo also to director Sophie Brierton for orchestrating such a pacey, but atmospheric staging of the shorts individually, and as a cohesive whole.

Absurdist horror might seem a strange genre in which to stage a celebration of all things ‘woman’ but it works a (Trick or) treat. Bizarre, unsettling, topical and hugely enjoyable, it marks Kelsey Sullivan as one to watch. I suggest catching ‘I Am But A Tiny Little Lady’ if it pops up on a stage near you.

Featured Image: Poster for ‘I Am But A Tiny Little Lady’