Review by Simon Jenner, February 28th 2025
“Well this is awkward. 7 words. 10 seconds. I am hung, drawn and quartered in 280 characters. In 5 second cut downs….” As comedian, writer and actor, Anna Morris carries the shock: venting a verbal blast to your child goes viral. There’s appalling consequences to video’d air-rage: but jokes stud Marnie’s descent with humour all the way down. “Apparently it’s also available on Tik Tok as a sea shanty.” After its Edinburgh Fringe acclaim, Morris’s debut play Son of a Bitch written by and starring Morris opens at Southwark Playhouse Borough’s Little studio directed by Madelaine Moore till March 15th.
Anna Morris. Photo Credit: Steve Gregson
There are two moments in this hour-long monologue where the audience gasp, towards the end. Both are moments of betrayal and one explains much. Morris’s skill though is in the way she constructs the monologue, with that sudden moment of landing to discover you’re infamous with someone’s film clip turning you into a pariah.
As Marnie constructs how this happens we embark on two journeys, one from Marnie’s past up to this moment, with an array of voices (Morris manages these separately to piped voices over the sound design). Mother Linda, father Colin sensible brother Chris and bestie posh Lucy. Another threaded through replays the fateful flight itself, when for a remarkable reason Marnie’s not in the same class cabin as husband Jake.
Anna Morris. Photo Credit: Steve Gregson
There’s enormous skill not just in the engaging narrative but what mis-directions we’re given as to when Marnie meets Jake after many other adventures, and decides – or is decided – to have a child. It’s getting late to conceive, and when son Charlie arrives with Marnie’s apparent hostility (“ I loved being a mum. Util he started to get a personality”) you’re driven to one conclusion; but then Morris wrongfoots us. And it’s not just Marnie who senses something’s not quite right with Charlie either.
What Marnie’s ordeal is about is intersectional misogyny powered by social media. And even a touch of gaslighting. Perpetrated by men of course, though featuring women with advanced Stockholm Syndrome. “Stupid fucking bitch. Shouldn’t have had kids” says one woman in front of her own children. Or “be sterilised”. Or Marnie’s yoga teaching class boss Joss who declares Marnie’s “gone virile”. There’s moments too of um… bath-os, when “I slide under the water… like they do in films when they need to show the character is depressed.”
Anna Morris. Photo Credit: Steve Gregson
Beyond this are clues leading up to that “gone virile” or virulent moment, where Marnie’s virus or pandemic “bad mother” meme germinates. One person shows sympathy: a young woman Ella, en route to see her dying mother, who she dismisses as “an absolute bitch”. Ella confides something else, and does something else too. Morris sashays back and forth across the two narratives, which encompasses events after the flight, and Jake’s reactions. But then is he merely being reactive? We learn more.
Cory Shipp’s set is a sleek black runway of a cabin interior lit at the edges, where upstage a seat fronts a double design in half circles. It’s a large-scale metal logo of an airline behind Morris who stands, sits, walks in a contained envelope of disbelief. Megan Lucas’s pinpoint lighting and text captions above provide helpful text: something unexpected but welcome to many. Ellie Isherwood’s sound beyond jetting-off whooshes, amplifies robotic voices to counterpoint Marnie’s humanity.
Anna Morris. Photo Credit: Steve Gregson
Anna Morris. Photo Credit: Steve Gregson
Marnie’s humanity emerges at the end “falling” but not finally defeated, facing everything that might be taken from her and recognising who and what she loves. Morris heightens tragedy and misogyny with gags, humour and farcical horror. Do catch this fleeting gem, running for just two more weeks before it touches down.
Dramaturg Dave Jackson, Associate Sound Designer Bella Kear, Production Manager Brent Tan, Technical Stage Manager Leigh Arthur, Producers The Thelmas and SideQuest Productions Photography Steve Gregson, Marketing Cup of Ambition, Press and PR Mobius (Emma Berge).
Anna Morris. Photo Credit: Steve Gregson