Jake Mace
Looking at the absolutely bonkers poster for Su Mi’s show, you might expect it to be an absolute fest of frivolity and chaos. And while, yes, that isn’t strictly untrue, there’s a surprisingly moving pathos to this anti-clown’s journey to reignite their inner child and destroy all of our egos. A barraging cabaret of musical comedy, audience interaction and gloriously riotous anti-pierrot playfighting unlocks a deeper story to Su Mi’s life – one about intersectionality, queerness, racism and mental health.
THISMOTHERPHUCKER pulls no punches from the moment we arrive – a set of tiny curtains hiding their face, an audience member invited to come on stage and open them with no clue what’s waiting behind. This character leaps, bounds, self-deprecates and self-degrades by banding around references to fine art, pop culture, the portrayal of East Asian characters in any form of media, really. They are a character juxtaposed against a white cisgender space, desperate to find a connection with humanity within a media that wishes to fit them neatly in racially-defined confines.
Recklessness is the name of the game here, with THISMOTHERPHUCKER barging their way into the audience to drag us all into the affair. A moment where they are covered in a suit made of air horns that we are all asked to honk appears frivolous at first but unpacks a story about consent in audience participation media that traces the remainder of the entire piece. When we interact with this anti-clown, we are having a mirror held up to ourselves much of that time. It will be an immensely alienating experience for some, but perhaps one that many of us should be more open to having, especially at a festival as white as the Edinburgh Festival Fringe.
Comedy comes from this tension here but also the havoc that’s being wrecked in front of us. THISMOTHERPHUCKER often meets our eyes directly with a wry grin after they discover a new means of creating chaos, before thoroughly exploiting every means of creating absurdist, fantastical slapstick comedy with that new toy. In one moment, we are all asked to turn away from the stage, and turn back to find them embedded inside a costume within a clothing rail with a tiny ukelele. This gives way to a new element to the piece that comes to serve its ultimate purpose greatly – a nostalgic exploration of Su Mi’s own childhood.
The sentimentality added here is done carefully – not to evoke anything other than a new reflection on the themes being bandied around perfectly. While there isn’t a seamless case to say all of these themes intertwine perfectly, they are presented in a profoundly fresh and brazen fashion. This shows is, above all, a mutinous act to defy stereotyping, with THISMOTHERPHUCKER our brave antihero, taking us all on a ravenous exploration of what it means to find your inner sense of self in a world that brackets and boundaries all parts of us all of the time.
The quiet addition of a few songs helps break up the choppy and surreal ‘anti-clowning’ moments, as Su Mi describes them, and in this show they casually add to a growing trend of alternative comedy that breaks down social barriers through outlandish commentary and hysterical acts of showmanship.
Undaunting, anarchic, and above all surprisingly sensitive – your encounter with THISMOTHERPHUCKER will be one you won’t soon forget.
Recommended Drink: Pair this with a shot of absynthe.
You can catch Su Mi: THISMOTHERPHUCKER until August 24th (not the 19th) at Iron Belly at Underbelly, Cowgate from 18:40 (60mins). Tickets are available through the EdFringe Online Box Office.
Lamesha Ruddock
Jasmine Silk
