Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

What an intense, unpredictable and hilarious show this is. At its heart, Farm Fatale is just a story about a lost cat, but it features so many tangents and preambles, as well as a compelling cast of absurdly exaggerated supporting characters and – most crucially – is brought to exhilarating life by a sensational performance that it takes on an epic life beyond the simple narrative.

Kate Norris’s persona is compelling, her rough-hewn upbringing on an Exmoor Farm giving her a dark, feral undertone – as well as providing this debut solo show with its punny title. She’s a predatory seductress, acting on capricious base instincts, exuding a desperate energy and prone to elaborate melodrama.

Now living in London, she initially portrays herself as some spinstery figure, isolated in her apartment, with only her cat Atticus for (definitely inappropriate) affection and conversing with her Gen Z flatmate in cod-period language. Imagine Miss Havisham, but lamenting the loss of  her slut-dropping days.

But soon Norris is getting randy, pouncing on any divorced dad in the vicinity, taking a warped pleasure in the shitty dates they go on at mid-range restaurant chains and getting turned on by their pointless pride-and-joy gadgets. Or, in the case of a weed-smoking techno DJ, wanting to mother him while knowing what a truly terrible idea that is.

Her moods and her personality are volatile, flitting from ingenue to flirt to psycho on an impulse, always with a unique swagger that’s underpinned by menace. She can say: ‘I’m going to get vulnerable with you now’ and make it sound like a threat. 

Just occasionally, she’ll drop the act for a second, maybe to laugh along with us at the ridiculousness of it all or to side-eye a member of the audience, a small reminder that this in an insane situation that only heightens the comedy.

Norris’ brain also takes wild twists and turns, so you can never predict what she’ll say next, even after getting the mad introductions out of the way and allowing the show to develop something vaguely approaching a more conventional narrative.

Here we get to know her Russian cat-sitter, made to communicate in the brooding, gloomy tones of a Dostoevsky novel, a prissy vet and the villain of the piece, a neighbour who started feeding her precious Atticus.

It’s an impressive, versatile performance from Norris, formerly of the Norris and Parker sketch duo, even before we mention the songs.  

She’s partial to belting out her thoughts in powerful musical numbers that are just as warped and surreally funny as the rest of the narrative and further liven up this cheerfully insane hour. The track about her date who was rather too much of a fan of James Acaster is worth the ticket price alone – especially in Edinburgh where every niche reference lands.

Review date: 4 Aug 2024
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Pleasance Courtyard