From bizarre eccentricity to deadpan mundanity, character comedy comes in many guises. Perhaps more than any other routine, the solo character comic has enormous scope to stamp their own unique imprint on the genre. For every Steve Coogan or Laura Solon, though, there is an Eirlys Bellin. Successful character comedy demands three critical elements: the ability to engage the audience, the talent to convince with every character, and a sharp, witty script. Bellin is clearly a competent actress: her characters accents unerringly hit the mark, and her various personas are portrayed with diverting energy. Her framing device, a disastrous public speaking coach presenting the efforts of her counselees, is an enticing conceit, and the show starts brightly. Bellins script, however, fatally undermines her efforts, as old standbys like the trendy mum and the drunken bridesmaid fail to convince. Worse still are the hackneyed punchlines: whilst parents confusing band names and discussing sex may have passed for edgy comedy a decade ago, the addition of a passing reference to Facebook is not enough render them funny once again. The paucity of the characters we see only five in a 50-minute show means that each stays far beyond its welcome, but even in delighting us so long they begin to meld into one another. One bright spot towards the end of the show comes in the guise of a funeral oration by a loyal but misguidedly frank cleaner, but by then the audience have been lulled into such torpor that even the wittier moments pass with barely a murmur. Eirlys Bellin is a talented performer. Given a better script, and an appetite for comedic risk somewhat greater than demonstrated here, she could produce a compelling show. Sadly, for now, predictable punchlines and weak characters will continue to trump even the most valiant performance.
