What is a woman. What is a cat. What is a woman pretending to be a cat. None of these questions will be answered, and thank god, because PUSS PUSS is pushing that glass off the bench.

Puss Puss cultivates a show you couldn’t be bored of in nine lives. Our feline purrtagonist gets distracted by everything, becomes intensely fixated on an audience member, then decides she hates them for no reason. She’s wildly, wildly expressive, and you can feel the room give full sympathy, even after being caught by the audience for doing something she shouldn't be doing: leave the glass alone, what is it that you want, get out of my seat, why are you like this. 

There’s bravery too, battles with catnip-fuelled hallucinations and the genuinely horrifying thing that stalks kitties' nightmares (you’ll know it when you see it, I now fear it too). It’s silly, silly, silly, and built on a very fun and a strong clowning foundation that keeps landing right-side up on all four paws. It’s wholesome, and then a bit unnerving, because she captures cat logic so perfectly it feels like being judged.

You’ll laugh, you’ll gasp, you’ll meow. And you might walk out respecting cats even less than you did before.