Writers: Emma Graveling and Emily Hooley
Director: Ellie Brewster
A despairing woman holds a handful of paracetamol and a glass of water. From this bleak beginning, writer-performers Emma Graveling and Emily Hooley spin a surprisingly upbeat comedy of self-discovery. The woman is Emmeline (Graveling), in her 30s, gainfully employed and successful, with a “flat in Zone 2” and a thrusting fiancé.
Behind her, another woman, in dungarees and sparkly party hat, gleefully dances, interrupts, flings confetti, blows a party whistle. This is Emmeline’s Imaginary Friend (Hooley), although their exact relationship is not spelt out until some way into the drama. The Friend has been a companion since childhood with a personality that now appears at odds with the protagonist’s respectable grown-up façade. Emmeline is determined to move on and hence the title: The Little Woman in my Head Must Die.
The Friend narrates the seemingly cheerful events of the previous day (seat on the tube, annoying colleague absent, promotion at work, boyfriend proposes) with a mischievous panache that undermines the rosy picture. As Joe, the boyfriend, holding up a garish tie, who insists on calling her “Mrs Barrett” (“his mother is called Mrs Barrett”), the Friend shows Emmeline she is settling for someone who won’t make her happy.
But she’s also determined to show her that her life can be worth living. “Give me an hour”, the Friend pleads, which sets in motion a sporadic clock projected onto a screen on the back wall. In between the clock projections, the Friend takes Emmeline back through the years to key moments in her life, times of humiliation and (mis)remembered discouragement. She reminds Emmeline of her imaginative gifts, her urge to write, her playful side.
Each scene is cued by a two-dimensional prop (phone box, model of Henry VIII with 3D codpiece and love poem to Anne Boleyn, Chinese jar, camera) all retrieved from a large pram parked at one side of the otherwise fairly empty stage. With professional lighting and audiovisuals, the whole thing bowls along in a whirl of compassion and comedy. There are possibly one too many flashbacks towards the end, but Ellie Brewster’s direction keeps it pacy.
On paper, The Little Woman in my Head Must Die is similar to several other offerings in this year’s Camden Fringe, where a 20/30-something woman is forced to look back at her life and come to terms with disappointment and trauma. This excellent hour-long two-hander stands out for its comedy and the quality of its writing and acting. Emily Hooley, full of irrepressible fun, is delightfully watchable as the Friend and makes a perfect foil for Emmeline’s would-be sensibleness. Hooley is versatile and hilarious as various characters from Emmeline’s past, including the fake-smiling boss from 2019 after an incident at a Christmas party. There’s also a timely dig at the role of AI in contemporary creativity.
The main difference from other self-discovery shows is in the skilful transformation of angst-ridden psychodrama into sweet, pacy comedy with reflective moments. A thoroughly engaging show from a couple of very talented performers.
Runs until 20 August 2026
Camden Fringe runs until 30 August
