Amy Gledhill steps onto the stage in a brightly coloured outfit and an extravagant wig – looking much as she appears on the poster for this show – which is one of the funniest on the Fringe.

 

She encourages the crowd to give her some love – even suggesting they throw underwear as a sign of appreciation.

 

Gledhill, who is one half of the award-winning The Delightful Sausage, is a brilliant physical comedian.

 

When she tells a story about being stranded in an outdoor adventure park you can see her swinging through the trees – her eyes popping with embarrassment.

 

When she goes to the beauty salon you are with her – as a pedicure turns into an unexpected battle with a massage chair.   Gledhill somehow manages to show us both the chair and herself – sitting in the chair, fighting a battle between composure and panic.

 

The trouble is, Gledhill has a highly ambivalent relationship with her own body – which she has decided to talk about in her show.   She tells us dating stories – about men who confess they would prefer to be with a tiny girl.

 

But there’s a bit of a disconnect here.  Are we supposed to be laughing at her – or with her.  Is Amy really happy to become the butt of the joke.

 

After seeing the poster for the show I imagined she was going to present this over the top hyper glossy character – but it turns out to be a projection she feels unable to live up to.

 

There is a bit of psychological stuff about body image and the little voices in your head that say you should be ashamed of your body – but there’s not really much insight into what to do about it.  Yes, other people will try to bring us down – but should we let them?

 

Gledhill is such a likeable presence and exudes charm and confidence – but she’s allowed her self doubt to undermine and dominate her own show.  Her misadventures are funny – but I’d prefer to see her joyfully inhabit her own body, have belief in her voice and let her absurd imagination run wild.

 

 

 

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