Review by Steve Bennett

Harriet Kemsley exudes a child-like quality. Her eyes sparkle with glee at being here, but she's also so shy and nervous she often can't meet the audience's gaze. Her affectation of staring off into the middle distance, way off to the side, is sometimes endearing, sometimes frustrating.

Her voice, too, with its nervous singsong pitch and strangulated but well-spoken cadence seems to belong on a woman much younger than her 28 years. She can gush 'wow-wee!' and it seem the most natural expression in the world.

Even as an adult she wants to protect herself from the world, avoiding the worst in horror films, while finding joy in sweets – but Puppy Fat is not as cheerily whimsical as that might sound, since the show boasts some satisfyingly off-kilter gags, and at at least her attempts to joint he adult world of sex and drugs.

However some of Kemsley's comedy is a bit low-hanging, too: offering silly responses to signs she's spotted, for example. And she's got a diary stuffed with filler material such as a 'guess which Disney princess you are?' game that's apropos of nothing else, but helps her meet the required hour – which after two Fringes of shared bills and one of work-in-progress should probably come a little easier.

Perhaps aptly for someone who says they once worked for Buzzfeed, her show becomes little more than a list of disparate stand-up topics with the same set-up, literally telling us: 'The next thing I worry about is…' talking dirty/ET/the sexualisation of society/whatever. It's like a box of chocolates, to borrow an analogy, bite-sized routines, some delicious, some more ordinary – but that she engages the audience so well even when the material is mid-level – and even when not looking them in the eye – is testament to her endearing low-status delivery.

There is a surprisingly candid sting in the tale when the happy relationship she finally found herself in underwent a seismic wobble – but this is an Edinburgh show, after all, and such emotional punches are expected. And from the drama she also learns to love her flaws, thus delivering the obligatory Hollywoody-style uplifting message, too.

One of her main themes was the fear of being incompetent, and Kemsley certainly isn't that. Even if the writing's not yet consistent enough to storm it, her eagerness and her insecurities make her a charming companion, while there are some nimble, quirky lines to enjoy.

Review date: 7 Aug 2015
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Pleasance Courtyard