Rosa Garland @ Assembly Roxy

There are few experiences in life quite like witnessing Rosa Garland entering the stage, entirely nude and pissing with an intimidating ferocity into a glass tumbler. Primal Bog is the embodiment of the unexpected; from the look on her face as she relieves herself, one could almost assume she too did not expect this scenario. There’s a moment not unlike a wordless standoff, before she moves on – the audience has passed their induction into the bog. 

Garland’s performance has something of a Buster Keaton influence, with a stone-faced expression that scarcely falters no matter how bizarre things get. And bizarre hardly seems a sufficient word. Covered in a surprisingly viscous orange goop, Garland submerges us into the slimy world of erotic desire. This is particularly true for those of you in the front row – do not take your complimentary poncho for granted! Nor should you take what the bog offers you for granted. Garland is not merely kissing worms for personal pleasure; she is realising the most provocative corners of human sexuality. This realisation remains, always, eye-opening and side-splitting. No matter how outlandish the show gets, Garland holds the audience under a strange spell built on pure trust for an excellent performer.

What Primal Bog ultimately grants its audience is permission to want; to want, amongst other things, to join a BDSM sex cult run by Sean Bean. Garland’s erotic imagination runs wild in a cacophony of sound and sensation. The regular interruptions for videos scraped from the slimy corners of the internet give an impression of a chaotic mental state which birthed the bog. Nevertheless, there is always the impression that there is a method to Garland’s madness.

Primal Bog is certainly not for everyone, but if it is for you, then we can say with certainty that you are one of the lucky ones. 

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Rosa Garland: Primal Bog, Assembly Roxy (Downstairs), until 24 Aug, 9.50pm, £9-14