Reviewed by: Fringefeed
Review by Stirling Kain | 15 February 2019

Let me finish. embraces all the parts of being a woman: the delicate, the miseducated, the vulnerable, the messy, and the empowered.

A candid and brazen rendition of contemporary, womanly problems serves as the foundation of this highly physical, observationally-inspired show, motivated to showcase the best and worst parts of the modern feminine experience.

Immediately striking about this show was its contemporaneity, having covered the anxieties of modern dating practices, nightclub bathroom commiserations with female strangers, and the effects of misleading corporate ally-ship.

More than this, these elements were captured holistically and successfully: one can’t help but feel that the actresses portraying these events and ideas had actually been the victims of them.

The chief endeavour of Let me finish. was not to present a solution to the problems associated with being a woman in the 21st century.

Rather, it aimed to highlight the conceptualisations and phenomena, the lows as well as the highs, of the feminine experience through a comedic lens.

This was communicated through the great variety of scenes – one minute, you were watching a satirical and self-critical monologue denouncing female violence, and the next, a candid commentary on the fallacies of straight men and white women.

The intersectionality of Let me finish. was both refreshing and necessary.

Specific focuses of the show were the exploitations of the queer community – including their fetishization and the social difficulties of same-sex relationships – and the racism experienced by women of colour who neither want to be reduced to their race, nor have racial narratives imposed upon them.

Reflective of the current socio-political climate, Let me finish. explored both the universal difficulties of being a woman, and the previously untold stories of minority groups.

As a white woman, Let me finish. was, for me, both a cathartic re-investigation, and an educational insight.

In this way, this production achieved both its solemn aims of intersectionality and visibility, alongside its light-hearted ones of outrageousness and humour.

Let me finish. is a must-see for those seeking a simultaneously unflinching and humorous take on the modern ordeals of womanhood.