Lions Don’t Lean In: ‘Crazy Bitch/Boss Bitch’ on Working Women

Poster for 'Crazy Bitch/Boss Bitch' in TK Fringe. The TK Fringe logo is in the top left. The Kick & Push Festival logo is in the top right. The dates of the festival are top centre. In the middle, is an image of a woman covered in post-it notes and a purple ring surrounding with the show's title and the location of the show.

A self-identified bitch and a boss—Crazy Bitch/Boss Bitch is a one-woman show written by and starring Thea Fitz-James, and centering around a millennial woman’s experience of being a corporate worker. She has 18 people directly reporting to her and is on the executive track but lately, she’s been wondering if she might be a bit crazy. The show follows her struggles with work and the prospect of a promotion, while examining what we as a society expect of “boss bitches” (and how we denigrate them at the same time). 

The show is fantastic and will be especially relatable to anyone who has thought of themselves as a workaholic or high achiever, especially women. It offers a sharp and complex commentary on our gendered social landscape, particularly in the corporate world. 

I was fortunate to be able to sit in on one of the rehearsals, and had high expectations from the show—it did not remotely disappoint. I arrived in the middle of a run-through, which I found out later was the first one to occur with all the set pieces and props involved, but I would have easily been convinced that it was at a much later stage of rehearsal. It felt so cohesive and Fitz-James was marvellous—I was instantly drawn in and invested in the show. It was an intimate performance in the rehearsal space at Theological Hall, with only myself and four others in the room—two of which were director Kelsey Jacobson and dramaturge Mariah (Mo) Horner—and Fitz-James’ dog, Obie (with whom I was immediately enchanted). 

There were several questions that emerged from the run-through that I think really encapsulate what the show was all about. One was how often and at what speed to place the metronome, which ran for virtually the entire show—the group determined to gradually increase the speed at certain checkpoints, and to turn it off at a select spot. Fitz-James times her dialogue to the beat of the metronome (or slightly erratically against it), to convey her character’s marching to the tune of the workforce—she loves work! She is work. And that’s great for her—right? Perhaps not so much, it turns out.

Another question was about women’s bodies. Was the play about women’s bodies as public property in the sense of contributing labour, or in a sexualization sense? The group had a really great discussion about this question, with opinions at first being fairly evenly divided. Ultimately, I think the conversation steered the show towards one about women’s labour, which is always about bodies, and the ways that women are also so often sexualized while trying to do that labour. 

These discussions (as well as others, there were also a lot of very important questions about peanut butter) were really fun to sit in on. The team made some inspired changes to stage directions, costumes, and prop use that was really cool to see develop into such a strong performance. They also mercilessly cut unnecessary lines or moved dialogue around to suit the play and make it more impactful. I found myself nodding along even though I wasn’t participating, and felt that everyone involved was really invested in what the show was trying to convey and how best for it to do so. 

Crazy Bitch/Boss Bitch really shines in its incisive and nuanced social critique, but it is also genuinely hilarious and heartfelt. There is so much cultural dialogue around what women should and should not be doing in general, but also how to succeed in the workplace and achieve the coveted work-life balance—can we really have it all? The play asks this question, but takes it further—do we really want to, and what would that mean? The show manages to insightfully tackle these issues without being the least bit preachy or prescriptive, and is funny while doing it. I emerged with a whole new lexicon of delicious profanity (with a matching t-shirt!) that I can’t wait to try out. 

While the story centres around a millennial “boss bitch” corporate climber, the play is more broadly about the relationship between an individual and their work. Fitz-James is a powerful boss bitch herself as an academic, dramaturge, writer, and actor, and someone to watch for in future shows. 

‘Crazy Bitch/Boss Bitch’ is playing at the Grand Theatre in TK Fringe as part of the 2024 Kick & Push Festival until August 11th, 2024. For more information and tickets, click here.

Author

  • Alyce Soulodre

    Alyce Soulodre (she/her) is a queer, self-taught artist and occasional academic writer living in Katarokwi/Kingston. She earned her Ph.D. in English from Queen’s University, where she explored monstrosity from Victorian novels to 1980s horror films, and taught a course on Victorian ghost fiction. She has been published in Attack of the New B Movies: Essays on Syfy Original Films (2023), and London’s East End: A Short Encyclopedia (2023). In her art practice, she focuses on the weird and wonderful of the natural world and popular culture, and her work reflects her fascination with creatures and plants of all kinds. She also serves on the Board of Directors at Kingston Arts Council and Union Gallery. She enjoys cheesy horror flicks, quaint detective novels, and tries to keep Halloween in her heart all throughout the year. Photo by Talib Ali.

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