Edinburgh Fringe 2022
Meg lives a promiscuous, carefree life of hedonism, with little responsibility. Using substances and sex to self-medicate whilst living in a state of denial. Follow Meg as she discusses the problems of the world (she has all the answers) through an inebriated high and the all-encompassing crash. When the news of her mother’s death hits, it forces Meg to examine her past to where she is, or isn’t, today.
When an actress writes a show about some of the most personal aspects of her life, she takes chances that can either be self-indulgent pity or tremendously rewarding catharsis. Either way it takes a mountain of bravery to lay it on the line. With an easy delivery and a wry sense of humor, Playing God navigates these difficult waters better than most.
We meet our protagonist in bed with her latest conquest, a first date that gets her standard “swipe-drink-strip” routine. But as you would expect her tired approach leaves her decidedly unsatisfied and waiting for STD test results. Over the course of her 60 minute monologue we learn that Meg’s less than ideal relationship with her mother has led her to this life of carefree and careless emotional gymnastics. She’s left asking “why did you have me” when I didn’t ask to be born.
It’s an intimate venue that gives our heroine nowhere to hide and she tells her story with the nervous hesitancy that often comes from confession. While we can assume the deeper reasons she has for checking out and going the motions of relationship hunting, we on occasion lose the thread and wonder why the play is titled so.
Still, this is a brave performance of a deeply personal script that is delivered with plenty of heart and emotion.