A sharp, relatable hour with a compelling premise and plenty of laughs, even if its most intriguing ideas never quite reach their full potential.Rating
Good
Prashasti Singh’s one-hour stand-up show Divine Feminine finds the comedian at a crossroads, using humour to take stock of the choices that brought her here. Raised in a traditional Indian household where authority and ambition were subtly coded as male, Singh grew up striving for a version of power she was never expected to inhabit. Now, at a point in life she jokingly refuses to define, she looks back with ambivalence rather than celebration, questioning whether rejecting prescribed femininity and pursuing independence has delivered liberation or simply a new set of pressures. It’s a strong premise, though one the show gestures toward more often than it fully interrogates.
Much of the material is drawn from personal reflection. Singh examines how her idea of success was shaped by the women in her family: a mother whose values became default, and a high-achieving relative who embodied possibility while simultaneously reinforcing anxieties around age and marriage. These influences underpin a recurring tension in the show – between pride in her autonomy and unease about its long-term consequences. Her jokes about aging and denial are reliably funny, landing with an easy familiarity that draws the audience in without feeling forced.
A recurring device involves Singh recounting sessions with a blunt, unsympathetic therapist who refuses to indulge self-pity and instead insists on personal responsibility. These exchanges provide a loose structure and prevent the material from slipping into complaint. They also highlight one of the show’s quieter themes: that self-awareness is not especially comforting, and that insight doesn’t necessarily arrive with solutions. Much of the content touches on familiar stand-up territory – family dynamics, relationships, singledom, and self-help culture – but Singh’s perspective keeps it personable, if not always surprising.
The first half of Divine Feminine is the most confident and cohesive. Singh’s stage presence is relaxed, and her storytelling makes the comedy feel unforced. Even for audiences unfamiliar with her background or Indian cultural references, much of the material is accessible, aided by clear setups and occasional visual cues. In the second half, however, the show leans more heavily into culturally specific references and asides that resonate most strongly with Hindi-speaking audiences. This appears intentional, but it narrows the universality that the show initially establishes.
Pacing also works against the material at times. Singh’s delivery is fast and densely packed, leaving little space for pauses that might allow stronger jokes or ideas to land fully. As a result, some moments feel rushed rather than underdeveloped.
Divine Feminine is an engaging and often funny hour, marked by intelligence and relatability. While it introduces an intriguing central question about power, gender, and self-definition, it ultimately stops short of fully exploring it, leaving a sense of potential only partially realised.
Written by Prashasti Singh
Produced by Soho Theatre in association with MtO37
Divine Feminine plays at Soho Theatre until Saturday 20 December.
