The show begins with a recorded message announcing the end of the world following some kind of nuclear disaster, and the doors have been locked for the next ten years. Enter fresh-faced Susan Calman in shirt and trousers, with an air of quiet ease which promises a night of unpredictable comic genius. She draws a line in the sand for any men who may feel threatened by this dominant self-described 'lesbianite', and be foolish enough to betray their sexual inadequacies with heckling. Susan Calman knows their secret and is taking no prisoners.

She's from Glasgow, and the focus swiftly moves onto the delights of exploiting the ridiculous fears and stereotypes caused by the way people from Glasgow speak. Londoners are targeted as a wickedly gleeful Susan Calman demonstrates her favourite fantasy tease by shrieking 'Can I hold your baby?' repeatedly in her most exaggerated Scots accent. The theme continues as she shares her frustration with English derision toward Scottish money, imitating middle-class-twit accents. Jumping skilfully from conspiracy theories to the 1980s recession via the Blitz, the comedy works because it touches on everyday situations presented in Susan Calman's down-to-earth, vaguely deprecating yet challenging style. Her comfort with her sexuality means that gay references give an interesting and unique slant to the material whilst avoiding the trap of being an issue.

Returning to the nuclear bunker device about halfway through the act at first seems like a fun if slightly cheesy segment requiring a lot of audience participation - if people are to be locked in together for ten years, they should decide who will be eaten, who will be the studs, and so on. Armed with stickers and several willing participants, the voting begins but quickly turns sour when a lady who has been enthusiastically calling out as the routine demands, decides (slightly the worse for drink) to walk up to the front and collect her own sticker (labelled Fragile, the bunker code for mad) which Susan Calman jokingly declares she is too afraid to deliver in person. A seemingly underplayed call for security is received with laughter by many assuming it is a joke - the woman is tiny, seems to present no obvious threat, and is clearly a huge fan. Two enormous security guards enter and forcibly remove the woman. She runs away from them, sits down, and promises not to move or speak again. Her friends step outside to reassure the guards they are keeping an eye on her, and are prevented from re-entering.

Some may say one can never be too careful, but for those sitting near to the tearful and embarrassed lady on a spoilt night out with the girls who only minutes before had contributed so entertainingly to the night's comedy, the whole episode may have left an unpleasant taste in the mouth making the remainder of the act hard to swallow.

Cast Credits: (alpha order): Performer - Susan Calman.

Company Credits: Writer - uncredited. Director - uncredited. Technical Operator - uncredited. Producer - Corrie McGuire. Company - Underbelly & Corrie McGuire for Objective Talent.

END

(c) Diana Thomas 2009

reviewed Monday 10 August 2009 / Underbelly, Edinburgh UK

Fringe Report (c) Fringe Report 2002-2012

www.fringereport.com