Sometimes the Edinburgh Fringe leaves you lost for words. Candi Gigi certainly does. By the end of the hour you will be blinking madly trying to work out what unholy autobiographical mess has just been hurled at you. A sinful mix of music and comedy, this is intense, strange stuff. It is probably too much for some, but for many this is unforgivingly funny and memorable comedy, the kind of show that the Fringe was born to support.
Gigi delivers a show that opens with talking genitals and that does really set the tone. This is a show that takes so many unforeseen twists, going down roads that few comedy shows would dare tread down. Throughout this macabre, physical undertaking, Gigi pushes every button imaginable and freely admits that people have walked out of her show after some of her lewder moments (if you see the show, you will understand why). Yet she gets so many laughs out of her crowd, even if out of pure awkwardness. A mixture of phenomenal lyrics and some messy jokes requiring an umbrella for audience protection results in one of the most uniquely hilarious festival shows out there.
For all of its abstractions, the undertones of Friday Night Sinner! are clear. Gigi negotiates sexual repression, Jewish identity and societal expectations in a way that nobody else dares. She is scarily expressive, with a grin so large it looks painful, and through a committed performance charts her fall into the abyss. For all the jokes and shock factor, Gigi explores relevant topics in a way that is not buried beneath layers of subtext, but is detectable for even the most gobsmacked crowd member. The message of the show is accessible, and this personal significance stops the show deforming into a meaningless, triggering rant.
This is a twisted hurricane of a show; a nightmarish dive into damaged psyches and stifled ambition, presented as a horrifyingly surreal tragic comedy. It is definitely not for everyone, but the Fringe exists for shows exactly like this. A delve into identity and exhaustion like no other, Gigi astounds and horrifies the crowd in equal measure. There is nothing quite like her at the festival this year.