You can tell when a comedian really enjoys their routine by the look on their face and the excitement with which they perform their set, and that’s evident with Alison Spittle. Her energy is contagious, and you can’t help but grin along with her through the show.
Wet has to be one of the cleverer stand-up scripts on the Fringe this year. It is not what it first appears. Yes, it starts off as a laidback routine with a short scene that jumps into topics that seem to have nothing to do with each other, such as aquarobics, standing in queues at arts festivals and a visit to the gynaecologist. However, what Spittle achieves in her writing is a remarkably cyclical script. The second half almost serves as a mirror image to the first, with callbacks and connections galore. The ending also neatly (if not in the happiest of ways) bookends the show. A content warning here would have been appreciated, however, as there are potentially triggering references to sexual harassment and assault.
Another facet that stands out in Spittle’s show is the rich imagery. She is a master of creating absurd yet amazing visuals. I too wanted her visit to the gynaecologist to become her X-Men origin story. What the show lacks is the big laughs. The conversational tone – and Spittle chuckling along to her own content – is endearing and you find yourself nodding and smiling too. But it’s more reminiscent of a friend telling you entertaining tales at a party and misses some of the more dramatic, performative elements of storytelling. Still, Wet has one of my favourite gags of the Fringe so far. Thanks to Spittle, you’ll never look at meditation the same way again.
You know how some people prefer voting for politicians they feel they could grab a beer with? Well, the persona Spittle depicts on stage, aided by her relatable stories and experiences and the intimacy of the venue, definitely want to make you buy her a beer after the show. And if you’re lucky, she’ll even send you off with a sticker of herself sitting in a wading pool.