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Women’s Hour

Becca Biscuit and Louise Mothersole in Women's Hour at Summerhall, Edinburgh. Photo: Ellie Stamp Becca Biscuit and Louise Mothersole in Women's Hour at Summerhall, Edinburgh. Photo: Ellie Stamp

There’s an undercurrent of genuine anger and frustration to this riotous, righteous mash up of comedy and performance art, originally commissioned by CPT for their Calm Down, Dear Festival of feminist theatre. Sh!t Theatre’s Louise Mothersole and Rebecca Biscuit spread their nets wide, taking in everything from female genital mutilation, to the taxing of tampons as a luxury item, to the gendering of Kinder eggs.

They clown around and sing songs in front of an increasingly surreal slide show of adverts for false eyelashes, kittens in tiaras, and extreme pornographic imagery. They read out a selection of the vile misogynist comments which tend to cluster under YouTube videos  and occasionally pause  to ‘talk dirty’, to discuss, in detail, pubic hair, female ejaculate, menstrual blood, and the less commonly mentioned, menstrual shit. There are airborne crumpets, twerking, rollerskating, and a spot of frotting. They use the word ‘flaps’ a lot.

Women’s Hour is, to be frank, a bit chaotic, but in the best way. It has a necessary energy and at its best feels like a gleeful middle finger salute to the bluing and pinking of our children, to a toxic media culture that makes young girls painfully aware of their own bodies from an increasingly young age.

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Riotous, punky, properly angry feminist theatre