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One Woman’s Unbelievable Run of Bad Luck – And the Hit Show That Came Out of It

Richard Beck Richard Beck
26 Jul 2025

We talked to Smita Russell about her autobiographical show, Odds Are, which she performs at this year's Edinburgh Festival Fringe.


Smita, your show comes to Edinburgh after winning the Grand Prize at the United Solo Festival in New York City. What do you think is in it that made for success?

The quick answer is that the script is bold and beautiful, but people aren’t just responding to the writing. The show is successful because it’s honest and vulnerable. It breaks your heart. At the same time, I’ve worked hard to ensure it’s not trauma porn. There’s a fair amount of humour threaded through the 60 minutes, but it’s less about landing a punchline and more about noting absurdities and being truthful – even if it makes you question my sanity.

For example, my obsession with Dyson vacuums really is the only reason I chose a vacuum-assisted birth over a C-section. And yes, I was envious of a guy who was the victim of nuclear radiation (the envy was for a different reason!). Because I lay out my wild and unvarnished story, a magical thing happens after each show. People write emails or DMs or line up to share the most difficult moments of their lives. Odds Are stays with audiences for hours, days, even weeks. It’s successful because it makes you consider the role of luck in your life.

I understand you refer to “a scientific diagnosis of bad luck” among other things. Has your life been beset with disasters?

I love this question. By many metrics, I am profoundly lucky – and I’m aware of my overall good fortune. My bad luck was targeted, and it wasn’t the mild variety – like, “Oh, darn! I keep hitting red lights!” – it was a losing streak that bordered on the mythic. In the show, I call it a “cosmic sniper attack”, and attempts to understand it drove me to mania. The bad luck felt pinpointed. Purposeful.

Telling the story, framing the events, trying to make sense of them – it’s the only way I regained any control. Because it all comes down to how we tell the story, right? You could lose your house, but meet the love of your life. Or take Violet Jessop, a historical figure who was in three major ship disasters – including the Titanic – and walked (or swam) away from them all. Is that good luck or bad?

You kept quiet for many years about these things. Why did you finally decide to tell your story?

Silence imposes a very real burden. I felt weighed down and guilty because I’d been lying for over a decade. I told my therapist that I wanted to gather everyone I cared about in a room and tell them the truth in one fell swoop. I had no plan when I said this – but I manifested it. A few months later, I sent out an email invite that read: “I began storytelling in order to gain the experience and strength to share this specific story with all of you...”

Generally, people practise in front of friends before sharing with strangers, but I had to practise in front of hundreds and hundreds of strangers before sharing with a single friend.

What’s in your background that made you able to take your story to the stage?

I don’t have a classic theatre résumé. I’m a writer. I work in education, and I’m an animated person. I don’t have stage fright and I take risks. If you were to ask my mother (and please don’t!), she’d tell you that I was late to speech – but when I finally talked, I spoke in story, not in words.

Two years ago, I ended up on stage because I needed a hard deadline. Otherwise, my story would’ve gathered dust in a desk drawer.

As luck would have it, the deadlines all happened to be for competitions that I ended up winning. The wins were great, but it was the audience response that always dictated next steps. People kept asking for more, so a six-minute story became 20 minutes – and finally stretched to an hour.

You have an impressive team around you. What was the process of deciding how to deliver the show?

I have daily conversations with the producers, our graphic designer and our director. I’m in awe of them and grateful that their fingerprints mark this project. Odds Are is largely about the role of change in our lives, and I think often and deeply about the sequence of bad luck that helped bring such brilliant collaborators into my life.

As for delivering the show? Part of the thrill is discovery. We’re finalising the poster right now, and it’s been a series of conversations about the tagline, colour palette, central image and the drop shadows on the title. We bring the same thoughtfulness to all aspects of the show. Rehearsals have begun in earnest, and every day is centred on experimentation. We say, “First idea, bad idea” a lot – and keep riffing until we land on the great idea.

What would you like audiences to take away from the show?

Surrender to chance, luck, fate – whatever you want to call it – without expectation. And share your story, please.

Richard Beck

Richard Beck

A graduate in theology and education, Richard acted and contributed to dance, drama and music productions throughout his teaching career. He joined Broadway Baby in 2014 and is now our Editor-in-Chief. He usually disappears to warmer climes for the winter to pursue his passion for travel.

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