Review: The Bitter Pill, Libra Cafe

Descending into the underground performance space at the Libra Cafe feels less like entering a theatre and more like crossing a threshold — into a world half-forgotten, half-invented. The Bitter Pill, created by Adrien Rosza and co-directed with Lizzie Peters, bills itself as a jukebox musical, but that’s just the scaffolding. What unfolds is something stranger, more slippery, and more emotionally volatile than the term suggests.

We are introduced to this world through the eyes of Flood (Geoffrey Berrisford), a tortured poet desperate to feel something authentic in a world that has commodified emotion and identity. Through Flood’s perspective, the show explores the aching human desire to reconnect with meaning, especially in a society numbed by capitalism and cultural performance. Flood’s poetic monologues are a standout feature; lyrical, aching, and at times euphoric.  They act as a grounding force, giving the production emotional weight even when its structure becomes intentionally disorienting.

Inside the club, we meet the Anachronists: four characters drawn from different decades of the last 70 years who have chosen to remain in this supposed queer utopia indefinitely. They act as guides, provocateurs, and reminders that even in spaces built to reject convention, new rules inevitably emerge. The play cleverly interrogates this contradiction: while club policy asks guests to “leave your gender and name at the door,” participants are also required to adopt new identities that align with the club’s alternative ideals. This tension raises an important question: can we ever truly create a space free of societal constructs, or are we destined to replace old systems with new ones?

The production blends experimental physical theatre, live music, and open dialogue to explore the fluidity of identity and the search for selfhood. At times, the shifting form and lack of traditional narrative structure can be overwhelming, but this disorientation is purposeful. It mirrors the queer experience in a world that often demands both visibility and conformity, constantly shifting the goalposts of acceptance and belonging.

As a musical, The Bitter Pill uses a carefully curated soundtrack to underscore its emotional journey. From the melancholic tones of Portishead to the raw energy of The Cure, the music captures the highs and lows of identity exploration and emotional release. However, some musical numbers verge on cliché and feel slightly gratuitous. A greater focus on the interpersonal dynamics between characters — perhaps supported by an intimacy coordinator — could have added depth and clarified the emotional stakes, particularly in key relational moments.

While there are moments where the world-building wavers and the plot could benefit from greater clarity, The Bitter Pill succeeds in its larger goal: to provoke, to challenge, and to leave its audience questioning the boundaries they themselves inhabit. It is a bold, messy, and thought-provoking experience that resists easy answers, just as any exploration of self and society should.

What The Bitter Pill offers is a rare thing: a theatrical experience that feels like a question more than an answer. It asks what it means to seek freedom when even liberation comes with its own aesthetic codes and social hierarchies. Can we ever step outside the systems that shaped us? Or are we destined to keep performing, even in rebellion?

This is a show that doesn’t pretend to have it all figured out. And that, oddly, is its strength. It’s raw, experimental, and definitely queer. This is not a polished product, nor does it pretend to be; instead, it is something rawer, a living, shifting thing. Messy in the way real transformation often is.

Written by Adrien Rosza
Produced & Directed by Adrien Rosza & Lizzie Peters
Stage Management by Leo Tsokolaeva

You can read an Everything Theatre interview with The Bitter Pill‘s Adrien Rosza here.

The Bitter Pill plays at The Libra Cafe as part of The Camden Fringe until Wednesday 30 July.