Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh
This motormouth Australian comic fires off tart remarks and home truths then explains why she over-identifies with the Titanic
‘No hugging, no learning” was the writers’ rule on Seinfeld. Jess Fuchs decrees a similar stricture for Feral, in which she will learn nothing about herself whatsoever. “Really, I’m just here to talk shit.” That might get proceedings off to an underwhelming start, save that the Aussie’s cynical shtick is delivered with tremendous oomph: a bracing celebration of unsentimentality from an act who tells it straight about her body, her single life and a trip to Ireland, where she finds her soulmate in the form of a long-sunk ship.
It’s one of those debuts that announces a fully formed standup, a cert to be in for the long haul. Cocooned in black feathers, Fuchs is an effervescing chatterbox of a comic, firing off tart remarks, home truths and off-colour comments in every direction. Arrogant yet quick to laugh at herself, the audience love her, as she pursues a Bridgerton-inspired breast enlargement, expounds on “pretty privilege” and writhes in horror at the thought of dating a 45-year-old man (she’s 32). Her mum and sister play entertaining offstage roles, and there’s a wickedly unexpected joke about the relative merits, when dating, of seeking consent versus reading the room.
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