It is like watching a final cut of a play where all the action and suspense is over and the only thing left is the conclusion – the deed of killing pimps. We have two average ladies on set but they are covert assassins. Justine is cast by Beth Granville, known for appearing on television’s ‘Gavin and Stacey’ and Beverley, is played by Alys Daroy who played Fleur Simpson from ‘Home and Away.’
The set is their hide away, a bunker, to dwell over their murders and dreams but not the type that Freud would analyse. Justine is talking about dreams of what to do after they have received their commission. A trip abroad is top of her list.
Playwright of ‘We Kill Pimps,’ Alistair McClure, gives us a sprinkle of the mindset of killers on the run but there is nothing James Bond about it. It is simply two killers having a troubled dialogue. It is Lara Croft meets ‘The only way is Essex’ without the men. It’s an odd combination but somehow the script manages to capture the audience’s attention with some interesting lines and profanities including, ‘God is a c***’.
There are moments they reenact some of their assassinations in a very non-serious way however this is often mixed in with bizarre acting such as Justine wailing like moody child demanding Beverley give her cranberry juice because she thinks she had cystitis. Beverley chucks her a box of paracetamol from Superdrug to which Justine replies, ‘bitter’ after some improvised gagging.
Justine dressed in a hoodie, pair of tracksuit bottoms with a copy of heat magazine in her bag, is the main energy on set. She has the funniest lines and does the oddest things that a young lady questioning her adolescence would. She would speak to her cuddly toy called Britney Spears and have a mini mime with a gun in her hand, leaning by the wall and pretending she is being chased. By who, only Justine knows.
Beverley, on the other hand is a bag of nerves trembling as she somehow creates an alarm for unwelcomed guests out of empty cans and bangles. Her stumbling words and stern expression makes her uninteresting compared to nut case Justine. She elaborates on her nightmares and speaks openly about her paranoia.
Yet, on the contrary, both of them are just as paranoid and as untrustworthy as each other as they steal each others bullets. Justine’s justification is that she needs all of the money and with both of their guns at each other, realising they have no bullets left, Justine grabs a frying pan and tries to suffocate her. ‘Death by frying pan,’ ‘are you kidding me?’
The minimalist dim set suffices for a simple script. ‘We kill Pimps’ although good to watch did not give an audience a lesson. Perhaps a better setting which allows the characters to move around and give them air to breathe would complement such a succinct script.