Showing @ Underbelly Bristo Square, Edinburgh until Mon 25 Aug @ 15:00
Even before the show begins, Rachel Stubbings has apologised in case we don’t like her face, explaining she has just been diagnosed with freakishly high testosterone levels, and offers round a plate of kids’ sweets. It’s an unconventional introduction for sure, but one which encapsulates the mix of charm, awkwardness and introspection we’re about to witness.
Stubbings is a warm and charismatic performer, who soon has the audience on side with a winningly shambolic bout of mind-reading and a few self-deprecating put downs. She’s decorated her set with a comfy armchair, some plasticine models she’s made and framed photos of daytime TV presenters. So it’s all the more jarring when, in amongst this folksy warmth emanating from the stage, several early anecdotes end heavy-handedly with pure filth, particularly given the mid-afternoon audience of families and retirees. That said, when not tacked on needlessly for the mild shock value, some of the darker, sicker material is particularly funny.
We’re introduced to Stubbings’ neuroses very early on. As a kid, her brothers were brainboxes, she was the family dunce and things haven’t improved much since. She’s now the embarrassment at the wedding, the waste of space in the workplace and the butt of friends’ jokes. It all makes prime comedy fodder and, in contrast to the premise of the show, she’s actually rather adept at what she does, weaving several ongoing stories in and out of a jam-packed hour. No-one can say she’s shirking, especially not during a frantic closing dance routine with guest appearances from everyone from Michael Stipe to Jennifer Aniston.
At her best when distractedly rambling and interrupting herself, as she does during her puppetry show between ‘Bad Rachel’ and ‘Good Rachel’, the quality drops when she goes for the cheap laugh. Overall though highly entertaining.