Writing a Fringe show on the premise of an audience member who hated your show last year is a bold move, but Catherine Bohart pulls it off and even manages to make a political point out of it. Unashamedly queer and open about all things sexual, it is a breath of fresh air to hear a bisexual woman talk about being read as straight despite having a girlfriend, and the pros and cons of lesbian sex. Lemon is a show about Bohart’s sex life, frankly exploring (and debunking) the concept of lesbian bed death. It's also a wholehearted comedy about queer domestic life and Ninja Turtles (yes, really).
Unashamedly queer and a breath of fresh air
Bohart is bubbly and witty, and woos the audience with her lilting Irish accent. This is a heritage she talks about fondly, especially with relation to her Catholic mother and upbringing. She engages with the audience well – not too much, but just enough to create a good rapport with us. Some of the jokes don’t land as well as hoped, but she deals well with this and there’s still a whole host of laughs to be had.
As a fellow bisexual woman, I found Lemon very relatable and a breath of fresh air at a festival which has its fair share of straight white male comedians. Without trying to pander to a non-queer audience, Bohart manages to connect and bring them into her world. She tends to jump from topic to topic quite quickly in a somewhat jarring way, lending to a bit of confusion – but it is easy to pick up on what she’s talking about once you realise she’s talking about her girlfriend and not a turtle.
Lemon ends with a statement about being visibly queer in a world that’s still hostile to us – particularly following attacks on queer women on public transport for not performing their queerness in a way that men wanted. This is something that needs to be remembered year round, not just during the melting pot of the Fringe. Comedy doesn’t have to be political, but Bohart combines the two effortlessly.
