BUST MAGAZINE: Venessa Peruda’s “All the Rage” Wants You to Stop Making Your Anger Pretty

​There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from being told, over and over, that you’re feeling the wrong thing at the wrong volume. Too loud. Too intense. Too much. Women learn early that anger is the emotion they’re supposed to swallow, redirect, or dress up in something more acceptable—frustration, maybe, or disappointment, or that tight smile that says I’m fine when nothing is fine at all.

Venessa Peruda isn’t interested in that performance anymore. Her solo show All the Rage arrives at the 2026 New York City Fringe Festival like a pressure valve finally giving way—loud, messy, funny as hell, and completely unwilling to make female anger palatable for anyone’s comfort.

The show runs April 4, 5, 12, and 14 at The RAT as part of FRIGID New York, and if the title alone doesn’t tell you what you’re walking into, Peruda’s own description should. “I’m a clown. I’m an artist. And IDGAF,” she says. “I’m a woman who has deep feelings about the state of our World and how Patriarchy has driven us to the breaking point. And I’m that bitch who’s going to speak up about it.”

​What makes All the Rage different from the growing shelf of feminist comedy is that it refuses to treat anger as a thesis statement. This isn’t a show that argues women should be allowed to feel rage. It assumes they already do—and asks what happens when they stop pretending otherwise.

Media: For complimentary New York Fringe festival show tickets or to schedule an interview with Venessa Peruda, contact Workhouse, CEO, Adam Nelson via [email protected]

Peruda gets at something that rarely makes it onto stages, even progressive ones: the sheer accumulation of it all. The medical appointments where you weren’t believed. The workplace conversations where you had to explain something three times while a man said it once and got the credit. The constant, low-grade threat assessment that runs in the background of walking home, taking transit, existing in a body that other people feel entitled to comment on, touch, evaluate. None of this is dramatic. All of it adds up.
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“Displaying the ironies and pitfalls women are forced to endure is hilarious and cathartic in a pee-yourself-a-little kind of way,” Peruda says. The show doesn’t abandon humor for sermon. It uses comedy to point directly at the absurdity of what women are expected to tolerate, then refuses to wrap it up neatly. There’s no moment where the lights soften and everyone learns a lesson. There’s just the mess, the recognition, and the relief of being in a room where nobody’s pretending.

The feminist comedy landscape has expanded in recent years, but there’s still an unspoken expectation that women will make their pain charming. Relatable. Something that goes down easy. All the Rage skips that entirely. Peruda isn’t here to reassure anyone that things are getting better, or that anger can be channeled into something productive and tidy. She’s here to say the thing out loud and let it sit there.

“I’m taking the gloves off,” she explains. “I’m pulling the curtain back to reveal the wizard is a scared man with scrawny legs that probably doesn’t pay his child support.”
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As for why now, Peruda doesn’t mince words. “If you have to ask that you’re not paying attention. My feed is filled with furious women desperate for answers, for something to do with their inescapable rage they carry with them when they go to work, when they drop their kids off at school, or when they bravely try to go on a first date.”

Her central argument lands like a dare: “Anger is the key. The greatest trick Patriarchy ever pulled was convincing women their anger was wrong and shameful. When in fact it is the key to our liberation, and the path to rebuild the World.”

It’s a line that could scan as bumper-sticker feminism, except that Peruda earns it. The show isn’t built on slogans. It’s built on specificity—the particular texture of being dismissed, the exact weight of being told you’re overreacting when you know you’re not. That’s what makes the comedy land.

Peruda’s path to this work wasn’t linear. “I come from a single mom home with siblings who tortured and loved each other fiercely,” she says. “I had a difficult upbringing which taught me that humor can not only soothe but bring people together. I was a good kid, until I wasn’t. I railed against the World and nearly destroyed myself in the process.” Now, she says, she still rails against the world—”but with a deadly wit and the knowing that I can do great things.”

That confidence matters. Women aren’t exactly encouraged to say things like that out loud. Certainty is unfeminine. Pride is unseemly. Refusal is uncooperative. Peruda’s built a show out of all three.
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All the Rage isn’t going to solve anything. It’s not trying to. What it offers is simpler and maybe more valuable: a room where women don’t have to perform okayness, where anger isn’t a symptom of something wrong with you, where the mess is just the mess. “Women need this catharsis right now,” Peruda says. “We need to scream, we need to laugh… and be liberated to be the bitch we wish to see in the World.”

All the Rage runs April 4, 5, 12, and 14 at The RAT as part of FRIGID New York. Tickets available through frigid.nyc.