Edinburgh Fringe comedy review by Paul Fleckney

Without wishing to diminish Jayde Adams’s potential as a comedian, some people will leave Jayded wondering why she’s not pursuing a career in musical theatre. With her compelling intro, in which she replays the opening scene of Forrest Gump (complete with dungarees and box of chocolates), and with her stunning singing voice, you would a different kind of stage show would be her calling. 

As it is, Adams is on her fourth solo show as a comedian. Jayded may be less than the sum of its parts, but still, I don’t think Adams should be doubting her life choices so far, as she is clearly a comic talent. The show is an angry one, full of retribution for the friends who have fallen by the wayside in Adams’ past. Names are reeled off in a furious rap, then repeated in case we didn’t get them the first time. Stories are relayed of fallings out, betrayals, how she moved to London many years ago seemingly without the social skills she needed to overcome her loneliness. 

Despite the sad situations she describes and the animosity she still feels, what shines through in Jayded is Adams’ huge charisma and likability. Your focus is on her, and you’re willing her to win. 

Sometimes she is just out and out funny. Her keen sense of delivery and timing brings out the humour of a tai chi session that’s interrupted by phone alerts, and a big showtune starts impressive and gets funnier as she goes higher and higher.  ‘Fuck it,’ she mutters, as she ramps it up by one more semi-tone. 

She pulls a woman onstage for an interview to see if they could be friends – it ends with an amusing photoshoot. There are audacious touches throughout: for some reason I loved it when, crouched awkwardly in front of a piano, she reached over and lifted up a two-person bench, and flipped it over behind her. It’s admin, but it’s funny admin. 

As you may have gathered, Adams is not a stand-up comedian as such, more a comic who flits between storytelling, songs and gimmicks to build her hour. There’s nothing wrong with that, but there was something quite unfocused about it as a show, without any particular start, middle or end. 

For example, it was odd that having made a big thing of the Forrest Gump opening (she relates to creative outcasts like him and Edward Scissorhands, she says). It never came back, even though she was dressed as Gump for half the show. The other thing that held it back was good old inconsistency, as there were too many dips in quality – mainly in the song lyrics and storytelling – for the show to feel like a solid recommendation.

Adams undoubtedly has the talent, but 60 minutes of solo stage time is a rigorous test, and Jayded doesn’t quite clear the bar.

Review date: 7 Aug 2017
Reviewed by: Paul Fleckney