BATSHIT | Leah Shelton

Image: Pia Johnson

BATSHIT is, well, batshit. It’s a theatrical fever dream, giving a little burlesque, a little verbatim, a little mixed media, and a lot of comedy.

Exploring the experiences of central creative Leah Shelton’s grandmother Gwen, who was sectioned in Heathcote during the 1960s, BATSHIT examines the ways in which society frames women as “hysterical”. Using Gwen’s lived experience as a framework, Shelton examines and unpacks the concept of hysteria (noting its etymological connection to the uterus) through song-and-dance numbers, scanned medical documents, woman-on-the-street interviews, and sampled Hank Green videos. All of this results in a work that is both engaging and thought provoking, if a little unstructured in terms of delivering a consistent and coherent message.

Originally staged in 2022, BATSHIT has come a long way, both artistically and geographically. Coming off a successful run at Edinburgh Festival, Shelton is back in the Sunshine State yet again, kicking off a tour that will take her back to the UK and eventually the USA. It’s no surprise that the work has been this popular; running at a tight 60 minutes, BATSHIT is one of the best-paced shows I’ve seen. Moments never outstay their welcome—whether it’s Shelton singing Garland through a gag, or a delightful Max Von Sydow deepcut, BATSHIT never lingers and always marches firmly forward.

Image: Cecelia Martin

Incorporating elements of verbatim theatre, BATSHIT utilises recordings of an interview with Shelton’s mother to frame its central guiding narrative. Looking at the ways in which Gwen’s life was controlled by accusations of hysteria, Shelton turns the mirror to audiences, asking us to question how many of these ’60s attitudes are still held by our country, and by extension, ourselves. This is not a dreary work, though—BATSHIT features musical numbers, stand-up routines, and video installations throughout its runtime, creating a manic energy that keeps audiences engaged and obfuscates the heaviness of its central theme up until Shelton’s final monologue. This mixed-media approach is unique and engaging, but I found myself wondering why it was happening in a theatre, particularly in the Powerhouse. I feel as though BATSHIT’s DIY spirit was done a disservice by the scale with which it was presented, and wonder if I would have connected more intensely had it been in a smaller theatre space.

With all this said, while watching BATSHIT I felt like I wanted more Leah Shelton. From what I could tell, the only moments of live microphones were a brief instance at the start and the final monologue. While she was onstage for the musical numbers, much of the actual meat of BATSHIT comes from voiceover and projected surtitles, or from embedded video work. For such a personal piece of theatre, I wanted to spend more time with the charismatic central figure plastered across BATSHIT’s marketing, and less reading words projected onto a screen.

The work is bookended by the idea of taking an axe to a television, something Shelton’s grandmother did after her time in Heathcote. The work opens with Shelton holding an axe, and ends with her in a t-shirt saying “Bring Me the Axe” (which you could conveniently purchase from the merch desk for a mere $50), but as BATSHIT reaches its crescendo, there isn’t an axe in sight. The television on stage is slowly and carefully dismantled, with its planted LED screen delicately moved to the front of the stage while Shelton kicks its shell. This felt like one of the more severe cases of a missed Chekhov’s gun in my recent memory, and left the conclusion feeling a little toothless. For all the animosity and rage felt throughout BATSHIT, I couldn’t help but wonder why we never see that axe.

If I come across as harsh, know that it’s because I loved a lot of what this show has to offer. A sleek feminist black comedy being on the main stage at the Powerhouse is an objective victory, and I applaud Shelton for her tenacity and vulnerability in continuing to stage BATSHIT to greater acclaim each time. I think I just wanted BATSHIT to be meaner, and less afraid of offending paying audiences. I look forward to seeing what Shelton does next with her newfound international success, and have my fingers crossed that it’s something staunch, unafraid to alienate.

BATSHIT plays at Brisbane Powerhouse until Saturday 13th of September 2025.