Review: I Saw Satan at the 7-Eleven, Soho Theatre

Christopher Brett Bailey was responsible for one of the weirdest experiences I’ve ever had as a reviewer with Psychodrama in 2022. It is an evening memorable for several reasons, including a half-eaten sandwich found outside my door on my return home and it certainly left a lasting impression which no end of counselling will ever erase. So, the question is, could he unsettle me in quite the same way with his latest show, I Saw Satan at the 7-Eleven. Well…

Bailey is very much a storyteller-type of performer rather than an actor. When he appears, he quickly takes his seat behind a small table where his script and microphone await. It’s here he remains unmoved for the next 70 minutes as he tells his tale. But he is a damn fine storyteller so any fears it’s going to get dull are long forgotten as soon as he dives in. 

He begins very much where that title suggests, spotting Satan filling up his car at a 7-Eleven and grabbing some soya milk in the shop. Not, as Satan quickly explains, because he’s a hippy: it’s because he’s lactose intolerant. That’s not his only issue either. He’s overweight, with a receding hairline, and very much a believer of countless conspiracy theories. Bailey quickly joins Satan on his trip, heading out on a wild 24 hours as Satan runs over hitchhikers and complains birds are in fact spy cameras, and participating in a threesome with a cardboard cut-out of Shirley Temple. A very young Shirley Temple.

It’s all as bizarre as it sounds, made more so by the matter-of-fact calmness of Bailey’s delivery.  Even as things get extreme and at points pornographic, he tells it as if it’s a fairytale. There are attempts at character voices, but as he often points out, the characters sound remarkably like his own voice. 

Subtle lighting design (Alex Fernandes) helps elevate the tension. It takes a while to realise that the space is getting darker or lighter to fit the moment; as he talks about evil being gone from the world, even the audience is lit in bright light, only for it to fall dark again as evil returns.

But what does it all mean? It’s questionable if Bailey really wants to make any real statement, after all, this is about his storytelling. Maybe it’s about the need for evil to exist to make us appreciate the good. Or maybe it’s that there is evil in all of us, something alluded to more than once, especially in the rewarding and surprise ending. 

But message or not, it is the humour of his writing, his ability to stretch an idea into something utterly bizarre and grotesque, that shines through. His delivery greatly aids this, with a few asides and errors fantastically handled without missing a beat. He even finds time to question his own script upon spotting a typo, reading through it a few times to remember what it’s meant to say.

This is not a show for a polite audience. It’s certainly one that would make your typical Daily Mail reader explode with anger. But for the rest of us, it’s a wonderfully ridiculous evening in the company of a master storyteller who you would almost believe did in fact meant Satan at the 7-Eleven, even trying to teach him a bit about consent and why no means no. I returned home this time not to a half-eaten sandwich at my door, but a mattress. It would seem Bailey’s skilled delivery is not just in his storytelling, but for strange things outside my front door!

Written by Christopher Brett Bailey
Lighting design by Alex Fernandes
Produced by Beckie Darlington

I Saw Satan at the 7-Eleven plays at Soho Theatre until Saturday 2 May.