Lucie Barât addresses the elephant in the room straight away – that she’s the elder sister of Carl Barât, co-founder of famously debauched English rock band the Libertines. Yet this solo play isn’t a tell-all rock biography about her lunkishly-imitated brother and his bandmate Pete Doherty’s lives, rather it’s one about hers.
From a working-class background in Basingstoke, Barât earned a place in drama school and seemed more set for fame than her unknown teenage brother. Fast forward a few years and she’s blowing her big chance on an epic swords ‘n’ sandals film by being sick on the star’s sandals. Already, drink and the addictive pills a producer told her she should take to control her weight are taking hold.
At the same time, her sexual encounters are messy, intoxicated and, on one occasion at least, an assault. This is a portrait of 20-something debauchery in the noughties, with all the immediate and lasting harm that entails, and Barât is a warm and honest storyteller.
She occupies her stage with energy, conviction and the occasional song under Bryony Shanahan’s direction, although perhaps more moments of stillness would have been welcome. It’s more a biographical portrait than a strong narrative piece, but Barât’s portrait of an injured observer to a star’s story is intriguing and her conclusions about the world’s sterner judgement of women who party hard are sadly sound.
Standing in the Shadows of Giants, Traverse Theatre, until 24 Aug (not 4, 11, 18), various times