Review of the new tour from Edinburgh best newcomer and Netflix star

With her superb debut, The Twist Is… She’s Gorgeous, Catherine Cohen brilliantly exposed the opposing forces of vanity and insecurity that define the selfie-addicted Gens Y and Z. Her mesmerisingly manic performance, peppered with gutsy cabaret numbers, rightly won her best newcomer at the 2019 Edinburgh Fringe and translated into an equally fine Netflix special.

Then came a global pandemic – ‘Why did it happen to me?’ she solipsistically whines. Now, four years on, the New York-based Texan has grown up, at least a bit.

In Come To Me, Cohen reasserts herself as a fabulous performer: a potent singer and charismatic presence in Disco Stu platform shoes and dangerously short metallic dress. She grabs attention and revels in it, but is now a shade less desperate for it. At 31, ‘the oldest age you can legally be’, she’s less hyper-kinetic than before, and delves deeper into the fragility behind the narcissism.

In her opening number, Fill The Void, she alludes to the titular double entendre but mainly reflects on how she’ll never be content, no matter how much material success she achieves, nor how much of the craved-for attention she attracts.

It’s a cheery song about unhappiness, symbolic of the many contradictions at the heart of the show, or ‘program’ as she anachronistically insists on calling it. That includes the fallacy of projecting a carefully curated online persona while calling it ‘authentic’ to possessing a supreme stage confidence while confessing to gnawing anxieties.

Cohen – or her monstrous alter-ego, it’s impossible to see the boundary – believes the universe owes her so much more. Surely someone as special as her deserves everything. With such lack of fulfilment, she finds herself seeking meaning in mumbo-jumbo like aura readings and crystals, past-life regressions and astrology. ‘Blame the moon,’ she insists in a jaunty, hands-in-the-air number absolving herself from responsibility for her actions.

Another of the generational habits she’s both parodying and embracing is oversharing, from boasting about her masturbatory skills to being frank about the unflattering practicalities of making a BJ sex tape. There are raucous gags galore, further lightening her breezy attitude to big topics.

At her best, the way she conveys her frustrations, both everyday and existential, with jaunty lyrics and showtune pizazz – skilfully backed by Frazer Hadfield on keys – brings to mind Tim Minchin. Do It For The Memoir is a bone fide hit, with its carpe diem, own-your-own-mistakes message.

Elsewhere, there’s plenty of witty social commentary, lightly conveyed with much to unpack in, say, a one-liner of how she’s not ready to be a mum but could quite happily be a dad, as it’s so much less demanding. But she’s also adept at the waspish, bitchy putdown as well as having a keen sense of her own outrageous absurdity. Something for everybody!

Her raging ego is compelling, backed up by a pace of delivery that often feels spontaneous: not so much a stream of consciousness but a white-water rapid. When one woman dared sneak out of the Brighton Komedia mid-song, Cohen comes out of the number enough to convey her priceless indignity, yet still keep things on track. No one takes away her spotlight.

• Catherine Cohen: Come For Me​ tour dates

Review date: 9 Feb 2023
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett