Rip Her to Shreds ⭐⭐⭐

“After the horror of being dumped by her boyfriend for the shiny new freshmen, wannabe queen bee Beth and her two unruly dorm-mates Mercy and Bo, spiral down a path of competitive obsession. When each of them discover their own unruly magical powers, pressure hits a boiling point, exploding into a surreal and haunting conclusion. A roller coaster ride into the secret world of girlhood: with all its ups and downs, twists and turns: alliances always shifting and personalities revealing themselves more and more each second.”

There is a lot to like about Rip Her to Shreds. It has an intriguing premise, three committed performers and a fascinating mix of horror, comedy, surrealism and commentary on girlhood. The problem is that, much like its characters, the production itself occasionally seems unsure of exactly where it wants to go.

Miranda Haymon's direction is mostly good and clearly knows what it wants the production to be. A strong visual and physical language runs throughout, and the heightened style suits the material. At times, though, the direction feels slightly contradictory and confused, with some moments pulling against the tone set elsewhere. Something is exciting here, but I wanted a little more consistency in how the different theatrical ideas were brought together.

LX is good and offers plenty of variety, helping to establish the changing moods of the piece. I just wanted more. With a story that becomes progressively surreal and supernatural, there is great potential for the lighting to push the viewers further into this world, and occasionally it feels like the production stops just short of taking that opportunity.

Sound is much the same. It works well within the production and helps create the atmosphere, but again, I wanted it to go further. The material lends itself beautifully to a progressively unsettling and engaging soundscape, particularly as the characters’ relationships begin to fracture.

The set is simple but effective. The clothes spread across the floor immediately give us the impression of a university girls’ flat share, and there is something deliberately messy and lived-in about the space that works well. It doesn’t try to do too much, allowing the performers and story to take centre stage, and I particularly enjoyed how the space evolves as the evening progresses.

Costumes by Amelia Dent are exactly what you might expect for some of the characters, while providing some nice surprises for others. All of the costumes work well within the world of the production and help establish the personalities and relationships between the three women. But this is where my biggest reservations begin.

The book by Isabelle Barbier is where the issues start to show. There is undoubtedly something here, and there are some genuinely emotional and thought-provoking ideas within the writing, but I don’t think the play has quite figured out what it wants to be yet. The themes of girlhood, rivalry, obsession, internalised misogyny and female rage are all interesting, but I wanted the script to go deeper into them. There are moments where you can see the much stronger play hiding underneath the surface, particularly in the relationships between the three women. Still, we don’t always get enough time to explore those dynamics properly. From the character's resurrection to the end is where the structure begins to lose me. From that point on, it seemed as if the story continued simply because it needed to fill the remaining time. The ending could have been considerably tighter without it, letting the emotional material that came before land with more impact. Some wonderful ideas feel like they deserve more space. Rather than throwing another development at us, I would have happily stayed with these characters a little longer and allowed the relationships to become more complicated, uncomfortable and three-dimensional.

Performances from Isabelle Barbier, Spinks and McLean Peterson are all good, and there is clearly strong chemistry between the three. They work well together physically and have a convincing feeling of familiarity and history. What I wanted, however, was just a little more depth. The characters feel as though they are halfway towards becoming fully three-dimensional people, but the script doesn’t always give the performers enough material to get them there. There are flashes of something much richer underneath the surface, particularly when the comedy drops away, and we see the exposure beneath the rivalry. Still, the chemistry is strong, and all three performers throw themselves into the heightened world of the piece with commitment.

Rip Her to Shreds is a production which is very close to something rather special. There are strong ideas, good performances and an intriguing theatrical world, but the writing and direction occasionally pull in too many different directions at once. It wants to be a horror story, a dark comedy, a surreal exploration of girlhood and a commentary on the pressures placed upon young women. At its best, it manages to be all four. At other times, it feels like different plays fighting for the same stage.

Rip Her to Shreds plays at Underbelly Cowgate, Iron Belly from 5–30 (not 18 August at 12:35 pm and runs for approximately 60 minutes. This show does have a 14+ guideline.

Book tickets for Rip Her to Shreds