Trading London for The Valley: Reviewing Ambrosine Davies’ L.A Baby

Shanai Tanwar
18 minutes ago
3 min read

It was a cold Saturday evening when I headed out to watch Ambrosine Davies’ latest show, L.A. Baby, live at The Glitch. I found myself situated in a cosy corner of the bar’s basement, part of a small crowd eager to watch her latest show touring in London after a successful run at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. And I must admit, L.A. Baby was well worth the effort it took for me to step outside on a couch rot type of day.

The one-woman show ran for about an hour and took its audience through Davies’ real decade-long experience in Los Angeles as an actor working all sorts of jobs to get by. When she isn’t auditioning for the role of a mute maid who suddenly discovers speech, she is struggling to remember orders for eggs benedict at a local eatery she eventually gets fired from. That lands her outside a rich Orthodox Jewish family’s home as a babysitter of three kids… who are navigating their parents’ expensive and confusing divorce.

Through all of her nannying anecdotes, social (in)escapades and struggles to find parking in LA, she begins a relationship with a coworker that starts off hot and heavy. Before she even realizes, they’re saying “I love you” to each other and making plans to move in together. He goes to Alcoholics Anonymous and seems incredibly charming—what could possibly go wrong?

She balances her romance and the demands of her babysitting gig while constantly anxious about the expenses of living life in LA. Her American dream slowly unravels into a nightmare populated by the ignorant manchild patriarch of the family she babysits for (who also wears a gimp suit?!) and the social isolation she experiences.

It’s a most heartbreaking moment when the show unfolds to reveal the ugly parts of being in an abusive relationship. After moving out, breaking up, and vowing not to go back to him, Davies finds herself having flashbacks to a night with her ex when things escalated and teetered on a dangerous violence. Through evocative lighting that alternates between red and blue (mimicking the lights of a police car), Davies narrates a 911 phone call where she, like millions of women, is not supported by first responders. It’s a solemn nod not just to her own lived experience as a survivor of domestic violence, but also to the usual lapse in the justice system to protect, believe, and support women.

When nothing changes despite Davies acquiring a gun and dodging multiple stalking attempts and threats, she decides to pack her bags and head back home to London. It’s a frantic rush to secure pet passports for her beloved furry babies and to haphazardly say goodbye to a city she’s called home for nearly a decade. But so comes to an end her nine year long journey in LA, an unforgettable experience that ended much more sadly, violently, and strangely than it started.

It’s incredible how much can be expressed by one woman and a limited number of props. Davies’ brilliant use of floorspace, lighting and physical theatre ensured we weren’t distracted from her form for even a minute. Her manipulation of three footstools is especially commendable—sometimes we were in the front seat of the car with her driving and others she was on top of a hill, hiking, in wait for a possible mountain lion sighting.

L.A. Baby is most persuasive in its authenticity to real life stories, evidently due to its autobiographical nature. When Davies buys a soda water with ice because she’s too broke to afford a G&T, you can feel your own pockets emptying. When she is tempted to return to the man who’s given far too many red flags, you might be reminded of your own (or someone you know’s) unfortunate “crawling back to you” moments from a toxic situation. And when she yearns for a sense of belonging in a land that feels both foreign and familiar, you’ll recall that uncanny feeling of being an immigrant, too.

Maybe I’m partial because I love Fleabag and L.A. Baby reminded me of it in the best way possible, but this is a show that truly embodies the brilliance of a one-woman show. The writing, acting, and interwoven narratives of dialogue and monologues transport you to Los Angeles, as Davies lived it, with minimal visual or stage effects needed. If you’re keen to laugh, cry, hurt, and smile all at once, L.A. Baby is at The Glitch one final time on December 14and I promise it will be like, sooo worth it!