Harder Please[author-post-rating] (3/5 stars)

Lottie Dixon-Coxon (Aimee Levey) has discovered the joys of masochism on a whole new level. It’s not just about whips and chains, KY Jelly and gritting your teeth  (though there’s plenty of that), it’s there in your astronomical utility bills and your overdrawn bank account, in your best customer service smile and your worst paying job. Ever since she had the epiphany on a train platform, abducted by a cult of like-minded lovers and initiated into expressing her long-repressed desire for a humiliation-centric orgy with Merkel and Cameron, her everyday mantra has become “harder please!”, a direct plea to a government all-too-willing to oblige. What does it mean? Something along the lines of “tax me, trick me, use me, abuse me, ruin my life! I love it. I need it. It’s not enough. More!”

Of course, Lottie Dixon-Coxon isn’t real (luckily enough, because with a name like that, it can’t go well), but Levey has lots of fun pushing her sex-and-politics metaphor to cartoonishly lurid extremes. Dancing erotically with a poster of the Prime Minister whom she lovingly calls “cherub-cheeked”? That’s in there. Knighted with a “ridicule rod” by the Queen? That too. Mounting the Gherkin? Yep. Levey has to be lauded for sheer, unrelenting cheek, and indeed, the idea itself is a genuinely intriguing one. Imagine if we all just… gave in? What an insidious, disruptive and baffling act of protest that would be.

Oddly though, the show itself can’t quite follow through on its enjoyably transgressive premise. Minor mishandled aspects stunt this promising piece. In terms of stage-craft, there isn’t much, and though the majority of the writing is strong and spiky with lots of coy wit, wry observations and moments of offbeat poetry, it isn’t quite immersive enough to warrant the very pared-down production (bare stage, nondescript costume) and relatively unsubtle delivery. I’ve always felt the best satirists give their characters a wonderful lack of self-awareness, an unwavering commitment to their absurd causes – but there’s a nudge and wink running rather too strongly through Harder Please. When Lottie nearly loses herself in a moment of frenzied ecstasy, opening her eyes and stumbling backwards when she find herself, in reality, in a darkened room with a group of people watching bemusedly, the ‘gap’ between the persona and the performer disappears; it’s a uniquely affecting moment that’s quite scarce for the majority of the show. If Levey loses some of her giveaway affectations and her quite limiting fidelity to an exact recital of the written text, I expect her next work to deliver on Harder Please‘s potential. Nevertheless, a provocative, silly and slightly smutty hour with more innuendo than you can shake a ridicule rod at – keep an eye on Aimee Levey.

Harder Please played at the Space at Surgeons Hall as part of the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.