Voices from the Fringe: Writer/Performer Bryn Woznicki

What if your wildest sex stories came to life at a book launch that’s part confessional, part cabaret, and fully undressed? SMUT with Entendre Entendre is a hot, hilarious, and unexpectedly heartfelt solo show premiering at this year’s Hollywood Fringe Festival before twirling its tassels to the legendary Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Ripped from the pages of her real-life little black book, the show is written and performed by LA artist Bryn Woznicki under the direction of Rachel Resnik, and will run for three nights only on June 7, 13, and 23 at The Actors Company, 916 N Formosa Ave, Los Angeles.

In SMUT, Woznicki becomes Entendre Entendre, a glitter-drenched seductress who spills on her many (many!) lovers, through storytelling, song, and striptease. But beneath the rhinestones and raunch is a deeper reveal: stories of intimacy, vulnerability, and the quiet ache behind the performance of pleasure and power.

Ms. Woznicki was kind enough to give ArtsBeat LA an exclusive interview prior to her Fringe premiere.

What stirred your interest in creating this project?

I’ve always been fascinated by human sexual dynamics—what happens when people get naked, physically and emotionally. It’s the tiny, unglamorous details that make sex stories feel real—awkward pauses, weird hygiene, mismatched expectations. That’s what I find most interesting because that’s where the truth is.

For years, I’ve kept a little black book—stories of lovers past: the good, the bad, the very bad, and the truly bizarre. I knew I wanted to do something with it artistically, but I didn’t know what. At first it was a book of essays. Then it was an autobiographical solo show; but that felt too exposed, like standing naked under fluorescent lights. I had to set it down.

Then on January 1st, 2024, I felt called to write smutty poetry based on some recent escapades. I read it back and was like, “Wait… Is this art?” Suddenly I had a way to tell these stories that felt fun and theatrical, but still honest.

So in a way, I’ve been working on this project for years—I was just waiting to find the right vessel.

What makes you relate to this character?

If my questionable coping mechanisms were cobbled together, Frankensteined into sentience and covered in sequins—that’s Entendre Entendre.

She’s got this delusional level of confidence we could only hope to aspire to. She takes messy, uncomfortable, sometimes awful experiences and spins them into something shiny, funny, or glamorous. She’s always in control—or at least performing like she is. Even her vulnerability is curated. And these are all (albeit exaggerated) versions of the ways I’ve navigated hard times in my life.

She’s a conduit for truth. Every story in the show is real. The sex, the heartbreak, the weird power dynamics—it all happened. So while she’s hamming it up for laughs, the emotional core is honest.

That instinct to use performance as armor. The whiplash of feeling desirable one second and disposable the next. The irony of being in the spotlight while feeling completely unseen—all familiar territory. So I relate to her because in a sense, she is me. Just with drag makeup and a feather boa.

What do you hope attendees get out of seeing the show?

I hope they laugh. Laughter is my favorite gift to give or receive, and I think we could all use some right about now.  But I also hope it hits a little deeper.

The show is fun and filthy, but underneath the sex stories is a real exploration of intimacy, loneliness, and the absurdity of trying to connect with other humans. I want the audience to feel like they’ve been let in on something—something messy, honest, and maybe even a little bit healing.

If someone walks away thinking, “I’ve felt that too,” and maybe humming a song about bad dick, then I think it’s landed in the right place.

Have you been to the Fringe before? What do you like about it?

I have! What I love most about Fringe is that it doesn’t feel like LA. LA can sometimes feel a little… vapid, disconnected. You know the drill—someone says, “We should totally get lunch!” and then you text back and forth for three years and never actually hang out.

But Fringe is different. Everyone’s here with a shared purpose: to put their work out into the world. And that creates this sense of community. It’s supportive, it’s scrappy, and it actually feels like people show up for each other—not just in theory, but in practice.

Since the Fringe is a collaborative effort, are there any other shows you’re interested in seeing?

I’m in a group called Fringe Femmes, created by LAFPI, and it is full of members putting on fabulous shows—check them out! I’m excited to see Dina Mild’s show Family Values, Ell Dellorso’s show The Life and Times of a Gay Bug, Emily Maverick’s Slürt, Brit Baltazar’s Passion Mansion, Cheyenne Washington’s Willhelmina, and Luke Balagia’s How to Eat a Bear.

Limited performances of SMUT at the Hollywood Fringe Festival 2025:

• Dates: Saturday, June 7 (7:00 PM), Friday June 13 (10:00 PM), Thursday June 26 (9:00 PM)

• Venue:  The Actors Company – The Little Theater.  916 N Formosa Ave, Los Angeles, CA 90046

• Tickets are available at https://www.hollywoodfringe.org/projects/11773?tab=tickets

  Photo by Rah Petherbridge