REVIEW: Dominus at The Lion & Unicorn Theatre 26 - 30 May 2026

“The real star of the show of course is Cat Gannon, who is fantastic” ★★★★ ½

Dominus is an example of when the straightforward mechanics of theatre are deployed so well as to elevate it from simple to superior. In this refreshingly revelatory solo show, Mistress D (Cat Gannon) invites us cosily into her life, and her subconscious, for an intimate and off-the-cuff chat about her first six months as a dominatrix. It’s got the verve and pep of a stand-up show, especially with Gannon’s casual, natural style, and easy interaction with the audience, but don’t be fooled, there’s also the tight architecture of a full-length play here.

Mistress D talks us through how she got into the job, her favourite clients, and a bit about her religious family and endearingly boring boyfriend. While she’s incredibly funny, it’s clear she’s in denial about something, and this will trickle out until the floodgates open at the end.

It’s a simple story of redemption from trauma that should be predictable and very easily lapse into repetition and tedium after 45 minutes, but the thoughtfully crafted and consistent character development marks this piece out from the crowd. The show is not flashy. It doesn’t need to be, it’s engaging from start to finish, for the full 80 minutes runtime, because of a remarkably well-paced structure and a tonal shift from comedy to tragedy that happens so smoothly I found myself wondering when it happened.

The use of the projector displaying quick captions of her true thoughts and feelings, and with which she occasionally and tragicomically argues, is a simple but beautifully executed touch. And we’re bathed in magnificently evocative lighting (no credit given unfortunately), and flawless, eerie, entertaining sound design by Balint Blasko. The real star of the show of course is Cat Gannon, who is fantastic. But all the creative team has worked in perfect harmony here.

Kimi Thompson’s movement is gut-punch powerful – at times hilarious, at times heartbreaking – showing a real creative versatility. The rape scene through interpretive movement is skin-crawlingly uncomfortable, and the dances, the mimes, bittersweet and uneasily funny. Later, Gannon’s anguish coming out in her binging of cheese sandwiches is brave and grotesque.

Overall, this is a really good example of how to craft something deeply emotional, perhaps personal, without ever becoming self-indulgent or overly self-absorbed. This is still a play after all.

If I were to be pedantic, I’d say that the show has the potential to make two errors: stigmatising submissives, further stereotyping them as posh wankers, and perpetuating the myth that all sex workers must necessarily have suffered some sort of sexual trauma. I think it does an exemplary job of just about avoiding those tropes, but that might only be because of how incredibly charming Cat Gannon is as a performer. Otherwise, there could be a troubling connection made between intelligent and consensual BDSM and a real darkness of hatred and abuse.

In this way, the show maybe, just maybe falls a touch behind the times in an era when much has been done to bring whips and chains out into the light; but, in fairness, that’s only if we were to really over-intellectualise it. At its core, it’s just a great story of one individual’s search for a route through despair.

Given the juicy (albeit traumatic) subject material, immensely charismatic performer, and moments of genuine hilarity, I also wonder if the show would have a surprising commercial appeal if it weren’t for the misleading Latin title and its associations with Ancient Rome – or maybe that’s just because I’m a nerd. Either way, as Mistress D herself says, the phenomenon of feeling as though you want to jump off a high building, bridge, cliff is called “l’appel du vide”, the call of the void, and for me that makes much more sense, as dominatrix or not, that’s something to which we can all relate. And while the show would have it that to be dominated you must be an asshole with no trauma of your own: the irony, perhaps genius, of Dominus, is that the act of sitting in silence in a theatre makes submissives of us all.

DOMINUS written and performed by Cat Gannon



CREATIVES

Savannah Beckford and Avery McNeilly - Directors

Shakur Jones - Lighting Designer

Vivienne Melody Coupe – Producer

Maki Omori – Producer and Dramaturg

Bence Blasko – Producer

Kimi Thompson – Movement Director

Balint Blasko – Sound Design

Box Office: https://www.thelionandunicorntheatre.com/whats-on

Reviewed by Alix Owen