Review of former double-act comic's solo debut

At last! A comedian with the courage to talk about being on the dating apps.

Jo Griffin makes a version of this sardonic joke herself, but it’s true that her debut solo show – about being 36 and single, held back emotionally by middle-class mores and a repressed Irish Catholic upbringing – is breaking little new ground.

It is, however, nicely put together and bolstered by her jolly, animated performance, skipping across the stage, palpably on the verge of breaking into dance given the slightest provocation.

The energy initially comes across as slightly theatrical, like the forced bonhomie of an over-eager improviser. Indeed, Griffin was told she was ‘too intense’ to lead a silent disco walking tour. But even if she has some qualms about being a people-pleaser, putting her own happiness second, it means she comes across as eager and likeable on stage.

Her roots as an actor and character comic (as half of the Lola and Jo duo) also come to the fore in the set pieces, which abandon stand-up’s illusion of spontaneity in favour of clearly written sketches, set to a bed of music. 

She’s thus guaranteed applause breaks at the end to recognisable skits, such as that contrasting the romantic confidence of a Frenchwoman going through a mid-life crisis as if in an arty Jean Renoir movie with the grimmer British equivalent, or blokes discussing their one-night stand in an improbably mature way. This latter scene ironically suggests there might something to be said for the simplicity of the archetypal male approach to life, free of pesky emotions. 

It’s one example of how – for all the staginess and a contrivance of the through-line about how she’d once have been burned as a witch for being unattached in her mid-30s –Griffin does address her authentic feelings, albeit tangentially. She shows an especially endearing frankness about her struggles with sexual confidence when she’s supposed to be a member of the liberated Sex And The City generation, using apps that expect her to share her every kink as casually as answering the question ‘tea or coffee?’

But elsewhere, there’s dead air – for want of a better word – when she plunges into a discussion of what to do with her mum’s ashes, polling the audience as to their thoughts. She acknowledges a slumping mood in the room, ascribing it to us finding the topic a downer – when it’s really just not funny enough.

Generally, though, People Person is a display of engaging professionalism, exploiting Griffin’s gregarious nature and lively writing which – at its best – displays flickers of Victoria Wood in her very precise, very prosaic turns of phrase.  

The finale is just the sort of vibrant, upbeat show-stopper that sends the audience out of the room with glee in their hearts. A crowd-pleaser as well as a people-pleaser.

Review date: 26 Feb 2023
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Soho Theatre