‘Being a minority is very in right now – we’re all doing it,’ says Lara Ricote in her debut Fringe show, ‘GRL/LATNX/DEF’.
At first glance, Ricote ticks a lot of the privilege boxes: she’s young, good-looking, and appears white and able-bodied. But, as we soon find out, that’s not entirely the truth. Her solo show is a thrilling one-hour intro to her identity as a Latin American deaf woman, a position she takes full, rare, advantage of in delivering ‘minority jokes for majority crowds’. She acknowledges that her voice ‘sounds like Bart Simpson’ and brands herself ‘disabled lite’. It’s dark, but it’s also hilariously on-point. With an irresistible goofiness, Ricote says what a lot of people are thinking, but would never, ever, dare to say.
Ricote won the Funny Women 2021 Stage Award and was awarded London’s 99 Club bursary – and to be honest, it wouldn’t be surprising if she comes away with a few more recognitions this year. She’s an absolute rocket. Opening up her show with some necessary family history – her older, hotter sister is also deaf, her younger sister is ‘stupid’, and her cargo-shorts-loving father is a ‘granola anti-vaxxer’– it soon becomes clear that she’s a natural storyteller. Her characters are vivid: living, breathing, and laughing in the sticky-floored room of Hive nightclub with the rest of us.
While the show leans on her being disabled and a person of colour, it also blossoms in other areas. Her anecdotes about being a late-bloomer sexually, and about contraception (‘birth control is like microdosing depression’) are crackers. Some parts get pretty twisted: she sings about organ trafficking, for God’s sake. But it’s expertly balanced.
Fair enough, there are some parts that don’t quite hit the mark. The interuptions from her parallel universe eco-warrior self feel annoying and overly forced. ‘Fuck off’ I thought, whenever the alter-ego popped up, distracting from the rest of the show. Still, though, that’s probably the point. It works as a metaphor, and did a good job of underlining her climate anxiety – an issue she clearly cares very strongly about.
It runs out of steam a bit towards the end. The finale sing-song feels awkward, and a long build-up to one of her great one-liners would have worked just as well, if not better, as an end note. But Ricote’s natural ability to make you feel like you’re a trusted mate, hearing all of her secrets, never stops being a real treat. Shocking, silly, and incredibly personal, ‘GRL/LATNX/DEF’ is a giggling hour of joy – and sets the bar high for whatever she does next.
