This review first appeared in the Evening Standard here. 

If you ever stay at Sara Pascoe’s house do not use her electric tooth- brush. One of the various intimate revelations in this brisk, condensed version of her touring show Animal explains what she does with it. Dental hygiene is not involved.

This anecdote jostles for your attention with other hilarious confessions, ranging from a teenage sex and drugs misdemeanour to problems pleasuring her boyfriend. Each tale builds nicely as the Essex-born comic strolls around the stage. The quirky self-deprecation, however, conceals a forensic post-feminist mind, eager to put others — particularly young women — on the right path.

There is a painfully honest account of her battle with body image. “Love yourself” is a glib but pertinent conclusion.

Occasional ideas fail to take flight. Suggesting Australia does not exist is slightly too close to moon landing conspiracy theories. Her routine about God speaking through the Sainsbury’s Tannoy is stronger, despite its cheesy pay-off.

At times Pascoe is scattershot, hopping from glow worms to sex dungeons via pubic hair, but clever closing callbacks tie things together. Plenty to get your teeth into here.

For more on Sara Pascoe click here.