The first sketch in this young duo's debut show imagines them proudly displaying a huge great stinking turd. Now that's just goading reviewers into making analogies...

They've developed a whole new genre of comedy: one with no jokes at all. They come on, do their actressy bit to general bemusement, then go off again. Not with a punchline or dramatic climax, they just go.

In one scene, the blonde comes out wearing a coat covered in sanitary towels and tampons, scrounges another one off the brunette, and just as quickly shuffles off. Don't know why. The only saving grace is this, as most sketches, are mercifully short, so the pace is brisk.

Amid all the baffling bilge, there are a couple of appealing and convincing character portraits: the Primark-shopping teenage laddette and a wife burdened with crippling insecurity about her looks. But that's not much in a whole hour.

Most tedious is the recurring character of the office worker always trying to draw attention to herself. If it wasn't funny the first time, endless repetition is unlikely to convince us it is.

In their favour, the pair do appear to be good, naturalistic actresses ­ but not for them the idea of playing to their strengths. Instead they're forever showing us exaggerated caricatures and silly accents to little avail. Maybe they're just going through their Spotlight CVs and checking off all the voices and skills (opera singing, cartwheeling, and some impressive dancing) they boast for the benefit of any casting directors who might happen to be in the room.

Their publicity boasts 'not just pretty faces, Lynham and Curtis write all their own sketches' ­ which might just be the problem. That's the one talent they simply don't have.

Steve Bennett