In an era where one might assume certain battles have been won, comedian Kate Owens proves there is still sharp, vital humour to be mined from the sexism entrenched in some corners of the Christian church. Her show, 'Cooking With Kathryn', is currently running a sparkling engagement at London's Soho Theatre until 10 January.
A Recipe for Rebellion and Ruin
The premise places Owens in the manic shoes of Kathryn, a woman from America's Bible Belt thrust into an impossible situation. Forced to host her late mother's community cooking show for the first time, Kathryn is a portrait of barely concealed panic, her distress hidden behind a thick layer of makeup and a relentlessly flashing smile. While the central argument—that Christian zealotry subjugates women—is familiar territory, Owens injects it with fresh, frenetic energy.
Her performance, which earned her a Best Newcomer award nomination at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, is both teasing and charismatic. She discloses Kathryn's core crises—a tyrannical mother and a profound lovelessness—early on, but the genius lies in the execution. Owens' manic physicality and dark humour transform well-trodden thematic ground into a live-wire spectacle.
Slapstick, Spirits, and a Psychotic Edge
The cookery workshop segments descend into glorious slapstick disaster, featuring an erotic egg-beating skit and a hastily improvised tinfoil bandage. The tension is deliciously amplified when Kathryn discovers her supposed sweetheart sitting in the front row, adding a layer of psychotically needy energy to the proceedings.
The show then takes a memorably gross-out turn. Confronted with the unappetising 'biblical brew' passed down by generations of Kathryns, our host rebels, turning to her preferred tipple instead. This cues some fine drunken acting from Owens, who fully commits to the broad physical comedy.
A Climax That Doesn't Quite Cook
If the production has a slight weakness, it emerges in the final ten minutes. A so-so song about deviations from Christian chastity and a too-neat absolution from a spectrally summoned mother don't provide the powerful climax the preceding chaos deserves. However, the journey there is packed with invention.
Owens maintains a deft, clownish touch that keeps every moment pregnant with chaotic possibility, right up to an unforgettable 'deflowering ceremony' involving an ominous bedsheet and two plucky audience members. She holds the crowd in the palm of her hand—though, as her culinary catastrophes demonstrate, being in Kathryn's grasp is a decidedly precarious place to be.
'Cooking With Kathryn' ultimately succeeds not by breaking new ideological ground, but by serving up a familiar critique with such fizzy, fearless, and physically inventive comedy that it feels newly potent.
