Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Alice Snedden is a long-awaited returner to the Fringe, having last made the visit five years ago.

 Lots has changed since then, in both private (coming out as queer; moving to the UK; finding a partner) and public (co-writing Starstruck with Rose Matafeo), but you can understand that it might feel like old news for Snedden, who would rather tell us about the mystery of her disappearing car.

Unexpectedly, focus on that story is actually to the show’s benefit, injecting some stakes into the hour that are otherwise missing from her more free-floating routines about cummerbunds and turning into her father. 

The central question – was the car stolen or did she just forget where she parked for six months – is approached methodically with a carefully timed release of new information as we join the judge (yes, it goes to court) in trying to decide whether or not Snedden is, as the title says, highly credible. Unlikely as it may seem at first, you begin to become invested in the story’s outcome.

At one point, in a routine about her therapist, she references a background story of discovering her sexuality while sleeping with a married straight woman. Was that covered in a previous show? Because the car story is good but it sounds like there’s some juicier stuff going on in Snedden’s life that might lend more of a thrill to this hour.

As it is, you have to damn the show with faint praise a little. She’s given us a fun story, well told, with a few good lines, but it’s ultimately hard to get worked up about her static style. 

I suspect she knows it as well.  Right up top she says that nothing feels better than doing nothing, and talks about her reluctance to invest too much of herself in her work: ‘This show means so much to me and I’m still only at 60 per cent.’

Well, not to sound too much like a report card but a few extra percent really might make all the difference here.

Review date: 20 Aug 2024
Reviewed by: Tim Harding
Reviewed at: Pleasance Courtyard