Review by Steve Bennett

Caroline Hardie has an engaging style and smattering of theatrical gimmicks that enliven her stand-up and character comedy hybrid – but even so the hour, entertaining as it is, passes without making barely an impact on your consciousness.

‘I get angry so often that it could be classed as hobby,’ she says at one point. But we don’t get to see it, or, indeed, much passion about anything, so the show remains instantly disposable, even if it’s enjoyable in the moment.

Her material’s not ‘about’ much – the odd title refers to what goes through her mind when she sees comedian’s massive faces on their Fringe posters – but there’s something of a recurring motif about the perfect world of the advert compared to messy real life. Thus she’ll toss her hair around like they do in the shampoo commercials, then demonstrate how she really dries it... and not before chucking water over her head to prove a point. She is dedicated to the routine, you have to say that.

On a similar tip, she describes the angsty Bridget Jones-style thought process that goes into choosing even the most everyday outfits, spewing out the contents of her undies’ drawer across the stage in a cyclone of lingerie. Such flourishes, directed by Thom Tuck, make the show stand out, but it would be better if it was the material that achieved that effect.

There’s a nice bit about that interview question conundrum, ‘What’s your greatest weakness?’ and she winces when she confesses that she answers: ‘Being a perfectionist.’ And she touches on feminism because ‘you think too much like a woman’ is apparently an insult now.

She’s got a slick delivery and a posh, quietly authoritative voice that sounds like it should be commentating on gymkhanas, and carries the sort of robust resilience that won us an Empire.

The stand-up sections are interspersed, with surprising fluidity, with patchy character pieces, such as her version of the Queen relaxing behind closed doors to use her real voice, which is uncannily close to Catherine Tate’s appalling Nan. There’s a shrill PR girl, a tortured bit about Henry VIII and a Germaine Greer type. But it doesn’t amount to much.

And that – save a couple of exceptions – is the problem with the show overall. Hardie’s a clear talent and an absolutely dedicated performer. But what to do with that, what to do....

Review date: 20 Aug 2013
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett