Julia Croft and Nisha Madhan want to create a new language. In doing so, they want to throw off the shackles of the patriarchy, and find a new way for women to accurately express their emotional life.
These are certainly worthwhile intentions, but the execution of these goals leans heavily on live art tropes that only partially serve the aims of the work. An opening movement sequence doesn't justify the performer's toplessness, and the microphone-as-penis metaphor says little. There is some dynamic live mixing that creates sinister soundscapes, though these do more for atmosphere than anything else.
Repetition of text and the use of emotive language—"Feminism!" "Theatre!" "Patriarchy!"—with little context soon becomes absurd and funny. The use of music and karaoke is particularly entertaining, but the patriarchy remains unbroken despite the good use of sound technology.
Further extended movement sequences showcase the performer's command of her physicality, and those that exclusively focus on her facial expression are particularly good. But as with other sections, the justification for including them is unclear. A couple of costume changes and an abundance of wigs used conventionally and otherwise provoke more questions than answers.
Live art and performance art have the ability to cut through traditional performance conventions and make powerful social and political comments, but Power Ballad relies on existing live art devices too much. While they are ably executed, the reasoning behind their inclusion more often than not is vague or arbitrary.