“Disclaimer. This is going to get dark. Real dark.” That’s Amanda Dwyer’s opening gambit. You might think you’ve come for some chat about ADHD or shopping in Lidl. She’s level-setting the room early, because this isn’t just a ride—it’s a movement.

The title I Did Something Bad is a misdirection, born from Fringe submission deadlines before the show evolved into something else entirely. What’s at its core? Loss. And then more loss. Miscarriages. Sexual assault. Unwanted objectification. The apathy of those around her—including the health services meant to help. Partners who fell short. It’s all there, and there’s no putting the genie back in the bottle.

Here’s why it works where so many others would fail: it’s Amanda Dwyer. A naturally funny storyteller who’s learned to gather scraps of solace wherever she can—Google searches, NHS leaflets, YouTube rabbit holes, TikTok confessions. But most enduringly, in the lyrics of Taylor Swift, whose songs become a lifeline woven through the narrative. It’s not “What would Taylor do?” so much as Amanda’s own irreverent, painfully funny remix. Like her heroine, she’s had enough of this shit and she’s created 2025’s Dwyer’s Version.

The brilliance is that she never asks for your sympathy. She invites you to laugh, squirm, and—if you’re honest—recognise a sliver of yourself in her wrong turns. It’s the kind of delicate brutality Janey Godley might bring to an experimental theatre set, balancing gallows humour with class, irony, and a wink sharp enough to cut.

I Did Something Bad isn’t just stand-up. It’s theatre. It’s dangerous. It’s exquisite. It’s Amanda Dwyer, at full power, leaving the audience a little bruised, a lot inspired, and completely in awe.

An absolute triumph and needs to be seen, by everyone.