Note: This review is from the 2017 Fringe

Phoebe Walsh bounds onto the stage all in red, and with a sweet smile and demeanour which belies the humour she is about to bestow upon the audience. Much of her set revolves around the cringe-worthy things that have gone wrong during sexual encounters which seems unnecessary given that some of her material, such as the difficulties millennials have getting onto the property market and the age old dilemma of which parent you would rather turn into, stands up well.

Young comedians often seem to feel the need for this style of shock value humour and there is plenty of it here. A more experienced performer, however, might have sensed that the audience on this particular occasion were less than comfortable with her promiscuous jokes and moved onto something else.

There are musical interludes which add some liveliness to proceedings, although it is all a little disjointed and lacking in a thread to keep it going. Walsh moves from one joke to another like a pinball ricocheting round an arcade machine forcing the audience to think fast or lose the joke. But many young adults who live with the daily struggles of still staying at home with parents or trying to find a date in an increasingly social media driven world may relate to Walsh’s material. The problem with this is that the audience bracket is too niche. To widen her appeal Walsh will need to think carefully about what material makes the cut.

Walsh is a bouncy, struggle-to-stand-still kind of performer which certainly keeps the audience on their toes. Her diminutive frame dashes about the stage throwing intermittent high-kicks and punches into the void. Some of her jokes also fall into the void, although because she moves on so quickly this often goes unnoticed. Maybe that was part of her plan but she may want to slow down to allow some of her better material to make an impact.