Black is the Colour of My Soul is a student-written piece depicting patients in an asylum who are struggling with their persisting symptoms and harmful treatments for their mental health, yearning for normality under the watch of doctors who do not care for them. The title evokes images of similarly on-the-nose slogans emblazoned on t-shirts in Camden Market. Taking a trip down the road will lead you to the Courtyard Theatre, where you will be met with a play that equally reaches towards Tumblr-esque levels of angst and a sense of juvenile despair that can’t help but feel a little forced.

“BITCOMS’s script fell short of providing the nuanced analysis of asylums that its synopsis promised”

Initially, I could grasp the glimpses of a strong play. The cold lighting and simplistic set of a few metal chairs conveyed the bleakness of this asylum, and the choice to have the characters change the colours of their shirts to visually depict the blurred lines between doctor and patient was an effective aesthetic choice. Unfortunately, this was mere window dressing, and BITCOMS’s script fell short of providing the nuanced analysis of the asylums of the past that its synopsis promised. BITCOMS wears its influences (Sarah Kane in particular) on its sleeve. Watching the play in the same summer I read the entirety of her works meant that I was able to recognise exactly what the creative team were aspiring towards. It also meant I could identify exactly which segments and concepts were pulled straight from Kane’s 4.48 Psychosis — not the best look. Attempts at Kane’s trademark dark humour unfortunately rarely registered as comedic to the audience (a bleach drinking joke in 2024, really?).

The direction seemed pretty vague, as it wasn’t exactly clear what the production aimed to convey about mental health treatment. The energy remained fairly low for the majority of the production as there seemed to be multiple emotional climaxes across the 90-minute runtime — the effect being that by the end, the onslaught of ups and downs felt pretty exhausting. The characters seem to monologue incessantly and, sadly, became quite stereotypical representations of the mental illnesses they are depicting. Of course the character with depression loves the darkness and can only talk about her deep desire to overdose. Concerningly, the two characters experiencing psychotic illnesses are admitted for being violent — a common misconception about schizophrenia that the play’s research should have known to avoid suggesting.

“Thought-provoking one-liners alluded to portrayals of the complex power dynamics in these asylums”

The use of stereotypes is not always bad, as long as they are explored or subverted properly, but BITCOMS seemed to go slightly overboard. The conflation between bisexuality and hypersexuality was one particularly head-scratching one. As a result, both the themes and characters seem quite simplistic. A particularly egregious example of BITCOMS being slightly too obvious was a doctor who outright stated in the first half hour of the show that they “only wanted money” and “don’t care about their [patients’] health” — how can an audience form their own opinion if the show so clearly lays out exactly what each character is thinking?

Interesting concepts were suggested, and then regrettably underdeveloped. BITCOMS did have some thought-provoking one-liners that alluded to portrayals of the complex power dynamics in these asylums, such as Katherine Halsall’s Doctor One harshly reminding a patient that she “stitched up [her] wrists at 4am and cleaned up [her] vomit when [she] gorged”. The eventual lack of doctors (played by Halsall and Aaliyah Ogunlana) on stage as the lines between patient and doctor become more blurred creates a void of power that is felt by the audience and creates a feeling of hopelessness that could have been more effectively utilised.

There are strong performances from each actor and they definitely work well within their roles: Sophie Howe is able to hold the audience’s attention as Alpha, and her depressive monologues definitely form a strong sense of character; Rob Monteiro worked well with his character’s inconsistencies, and played each contrasting aspect with charm and vivacity. The doctors’ joint screaming was visceral, and Katya Kirby made the dispersed moments of flirtation believable. It is a slight shame that these performers and their stand-out lines can’t fully shine, overshadowed by the more eye-roll-worthy scenes.

The treatment and perception of the mentally ill is a sensitive topic loaded with an incredibly tragic history, and I really wanted BITCOMS to do it justice. Unfortunately, I don’t believe it did. There were many opportunities to promote fresh and pertinent discussions around mental illness: the play touches on the harmful side-effects of antidepressants, which could have served as an interesting parallel to our attempts to pathologise suffering in the 21st century as these drugs continue to be prescribed. Unfortunately, BITCOMS seems a little too afraid to make any proper statement on ableist abuse or mental illness - and so the message sadly falls short. I’m glad the show has partnered with Hillside Clubhouse, which does amazing work in the surrounding area for people struggling with their mental health. However, these missteps in the representation of Britain’s dark history with the mentally ill hit pretty close to home, so I’ll refer back to BITCOMS’s beloved Sarah Kane to summarise: “I’m angry because I understand, not because I don’t”.