Review by Steve Bennett

Natasia Demetriou is a ‘sorry guys, I’m probably not going to be very good at this’ sort of act, approaching her own show with nervous trepidation. Yes, she’s one of those anti-comedians, who drench her performance with doubt and insecurity.

It’s a reluctant approach that she – or at least occasional musical accompanist Mae Martin – acknowledges ‘divides the room’. I’m afraid I’m in the ‘anti’ camp. If she were brilliant, this style might be wonderfully ironic, instead it amplifies the shortcomings, making the hour as much an effort for us as it apparently is for her.

Many of her characters share the same lack of confidence, energy and ability in what they are supposed to do. Thus the would-be entrepreneur pitches her plan with Apprentice-style self-motivational bullshit while swaying nervously on the spot, awkwardly inhabiting her novelty costume; the open-mic stand-up is uneasy and out of her depth; the international singing star Kiki can’t sing. The character that’s supposed to rhyme, can’t rhyme, and when, as herself, she embarks on improv, she can’t improvise… although here, at least, the haunted look of drained terror on her face as she considers the prospect, is amusingly bleak.

Often the characters are imprecisely foreign, allowing Demetriou to do a range of ‘in my willage’ accents, though you could never say she was showing off about it. The performance is an bizarro counterpart to her brother Jamie’s slick Fringe offering last year, which won so much acclaim.

There are high points. Her sex expert is especially funny, since some jokes have been written around the character that go beyond her inabilities, and as an antipodean daytime talk host, she has a enjoyable to-and-fro with the audience ‘volunteer’ as they stumble towards an anecdote. This comes pretty late in the show; proof she can actually do this comedy thing after constantly reinforcing the idea she can’t. Neuro-linguisitic programming experts would be horrified.

There are some quirky details in the videos that cover costume changes, too. Unfortunately, the funniest thing about Demetriou’s show is probably her father, caught on camera attempting to tell an old pub joke, but mangling it, to his own, near-hysterical, delight. He’s loving life, a state of mind his daughter most certainly doesn’t convey.

Review date: 7 Aug 2014
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Pleasance Courtyard