If a young woman is obsessed with an older comedian who is sending her dick pics, who is the creep in that scenario? It is a riddle fit for our online age of parasocial relationships and male comedians being, well, male comedians, and one that Harriet Richardson has spent several years – and the hour of her debut Fringe performance – attempting to deconstruct. Blending comedy, performance art and a meticulously timed Powerpoint presentation, Creep is a bold, anarchic and deeply incisive exploration of obsession told with the naturalism and wit of a friend sending you deep cut memes.
Richardson has until now largely worked as a performance artist, and her refusal of generic boundaries in Creep works to probe at the essentially performative nature of being alive, both creatively and emotionally. It is unsurprising that Richardson has turned to comedy to articulate the ideas around intimacy and desire she has long been exploring in her art; comedy, like performance (and dating and loneliness and connection), calls for a requisite vulnerability, and it is this idea of risk and exposure that coalesces Richardson’s seemingly chaotic romantic confessions. It is both a very impressive debut – deft as it is unhinged – and an incredibly moving journey towards self-love.
Harriet Richardson: Creep, Pleasance Courtyard, until 30 Aug (not 17), 7pm