Writer: Georgie Wedge
Director: Ilya Wray
Repeated romantic failure might be the last thing any of us would ever want to make a show about, but going bravely forward and baring more than a few painful encounters in the name of art and laughter is the impetus behind this new one-woman play written and performed by Georgie Wedge, a show that mixes stand-up comedy with slam poetry to produce one of the funniest shows of the year.
Set up as a collection of vignettes from our main character’s dire dates, we are witness to a love life floundering across Britain, from the hazy depths of a Hackney softboy’s flat to the sterile surroundings of an NHS clinic’s waiting room. At each of these points, the show’s verse nature is key; Wedge has the keen wordsmith’s talent of not only finding rhymes but honing her sentences so tightly that each one feels natural and flows with an ease that only further enhances the payloads within her near-constant bombardment of jokes.
Just like the poetry, the comedy itself here is excellent, punchy on the surface but clever in its subtleties. They’re often crude sex jokes, but underneath each, there’s always another layer – granted it’s usually another, slightly more cerebral sex joke, but there’s heart as well as charm alongside these, breathing life into the character Wedge is creating as she weaves the show’s narrative. It can threaten to be a bit one-note at times but saves itself through its pure quality as both comedy and poetry.
Matching the quality of her writing, Wedge has immense skill as a performer. She’s sultry as each encounter begins and then slapstick by the time it ends, commanding and in control until she’s quite literally flailing across the floor; a woman with everything going for her, but constantly spited by the universe (and herself). It’s a natural recipe for hilarity that delivers again, and again and again.
Behind all this, intelligent direction from Ilya Wray gives much-needed texture to a story that is constantly escalating in desperation, communicating mood through effective use of lighting and sound, but most notably through Wedge’s body language. All three come together during an unbearable moment on an improvised dancefloor that has Wedge right in the spotlight as she bundles herself into awkwardly performing the splits against her will. Haunting in its own way, but, as always, undeniably funny.
It’s a bounty of these kinds of moments that make this a winning show and with a length just shy of an hour you’re left wanting more in the best way possible.
Reviewed on 10 July 2024 and plays 31 July – 25 August at C Arts – C Aquila – Temple at The Edinburgh Fringe Festival
