Alison Spittle @ Monkey Barrel

Alison Spittle’s Big is a riot of laughter and fearless honesty, weaving her personal journey with fatness into a sharp, audacious, and irresistibly witty hour

Review by Malak Naseem | 14 Aug 2025
  • Alison Spittle

Intrusive thoughts take centre stage in Alison Spittle’s Big, as she opens with audacious energy and never lets it drop, delivering a show as sharply crafted as it is joyfully unpredictable. The show is chaotic, hilarious, and unapologetically honest about what it means to live inside a fat body in a world desperate to control and diminish it.

Her stories of fatness swerve from getting drunk at Shrek Adventure Land (she’s a proud “hetero shrexual” who prefers fat, green Shrek to handsome magic Shrek) to the unhinged chaos of a group chat with other mentally ill comedians – culminating in a rollercoaster trip that nearly cost her the will to live. On a train journey, she’s called a “fat bitch” and told to sit down by a morning drinker minutes after face-planting in another carriage, so naturally, she refuses to sit out of pure rebellion.

When bullies called her fat, she got bigger. When family told her to lose weight to get on TV, she doubled down on succeeding while staying fat.

That defiance has a cost, and she doesn’t shy away from it. Spittle threads her chaotic humour through deeply personal terrain: growing up on a council estate, reflections on sexual assault, realising she had an eating disorder, and surviving septicemia. She skewers societal hypocrisy – like the medical obsession with her weight – with sharp bite and surprising playfulness, all while professing her love for the TV show Pointless.

Spittle's delivery is fearless, her timing immaculate, and her intrusive asides often catch even her off guard. Just as the audience leans into a vulnerable moment, an absurd image (like likening fatness to an XL bully) barges in, before she steers us back to something heartfelt, and then absurd again, creating layers of depth and introspection.

Big is comedy with teeth and tenderness. It’s an audacious, gloriously silly hour that is chaotically driven and utterly original.


Alison Spittle: Big, Monkey Barrel (MB1), until 24 Aug, 4.45pm, £12-14; extra show at Monkey Barrel (MB4), Sun 17 Aug, 10.40pm, £14