Victoria Abbott is fierce on stage and in the poster for her show, Run Rabbit. Photo / Sacha Stejko and George Wallace
There's no doubting we're in the theatre for Victoria Abbott's Run Rabbit, an impressive one-woman show which plays with style and form to deliver a hard-hitting message about life under siege conditions.
Abbott bounces on to the stage and immediately engages with the audience, introducing the show, the venue and
herself — along with different iterations of that self — leaving us clear we're having a theatrical experience.
The introduction includes referencing other performances in the Basement Studio along with other performers she's worked with; it risks sounding like an in-joke which could irk those who have no idea who or what she's talking about. It might lose audience members who want a straightforward narrative and who are not familiar with theatrical devices, like deliberately trampling all over the "fourth wall" which is meant to separate performers from audiences.
After this introduction, Abbott changes gear, starting the story of her kick-ass ancestor Black Agnes, who held off an English army sent to (try to) take over Dunbar Castle in 1338.
A feisty and totally committed performer, Abbott gives us the potted highlights of that five-month, ultimately unsuccessful, siege: Black Agnes' supposed retorts, survival strategies and, possibly, private thoughts.
