Show Rating:

The difference between Australian Jackie Loeb’s appearance at the beginning and end of her debut show is astonishing and – quite frankly – completely terrifying, but for all the wrong reasons.  The transformation into wild-eyed lunatic is the result of an energetic, and often musical, performance that is as uninspiring as it is manic.

The main problem is the extremely general – and often dated – nature of her material.  Many of Loeb’s jokes are centred on the fact that she considers herself as a social outsider, almost equivalent to an asylum escapee, but there never seems to be any genuine evidence to support this claim. 

Poorly timed lines like, “Anyone with mental illness?  Oh, just me then”, therefore have the appearance of being misplaced and utterly forced.  When adding these to a more random selection of observations about Prisoner Cell Block H and relaxation therapy, the entire show is shown to be impersonal, aimless and flat.

Loeb’s onstage persona is alternately very loud and slyly sweet, in turns enticing men from the front row back and screaming her lungs out at them.  This approach could be effective proof of her insanity, but the maniacal finale just never feels like a logical culmination or extension of the performance.  Rather, it seems to be a forced and slightly cheap way to mine laughs.

Where Loeb does occasionally hold interest is in her comedy songs.  She has an admirable inclination towards undermining or playing off expectations within the genre.  She is also a highly accomplished musician and vocalist, allowing her to give powerful voice to her ideas.  However even after deconstructing the form she still falls into predictable patterns, including a selection of competent but unoriginal impressions of female vocalists.

Despite Loeb’s wide range of performance talent, this is a bland full-length show that fails to move as far into the realm of personal comedy as it purports to.