Feeling spiritual? Sara Pascoe has invented her own religion and we're all invited! Eschewing the other faiths on offer, Pascoe takes to the stage with her "scripture" professing the value of just getting along/not being so bloody terrible. She takes the audience into an abstract fairyland of robot cats and monster children with charmingly witty asides.
She tears into everyday injustices with clever analysis, but manages to deliver her points with such whimsy that her opinions don't come off as preachy.
It's clear from the outset that when Pascoe emerges in a turtle hat (I didn't know they made those either) that we're all in for something off the beaten track. However, if you're willing to go with the admittedly bizarre flow of the story, you'll find some brilliantly crafted jokes. Peppered with excellent pieces of satire - such as some spot-on commentary on being called a "female comedian" - Pascoe's narration is neat, but her expansion on observational pieces and short everyday parables is where her strength lies. She tears into everyday injustices with clever analysis, but manages to deliver her points with such whimsy that her opinions don't come off as preachy. Even taking on a "priest voice" and relating her far than finest moments doesn't stop Pascoe's insanely likable persona shining through.
In spite of her amazing comic timing when dipping in and out of the story, the work-in-progress nature of Pascoe's set meant that there were some slight pacing issues when referring back to the main body of the set, the religious "text". It's not a huge detriment to Pascoe's performance, but the overall show does miss out on consistent slickness because of it. Likewise, whilst Pascoe promotes less apathy and more togetherness throughout her set, the show ends somewhat abruptly with the narrative conclusion. It's a somewhat bleak note to leave the audience on, and could benefit from a more conscious integration of the story within the overall theme of the performance.
It's a real shame Pascoe isn't taking her museum of robot pussycats up to the Edinburgh Fringe this year, because I could honestly sit and listen to her plans for changing the world all day, one cautionary tale at a time. The theme needs tidying up a little around the edges, but it's easily overlooked and if she doesn't leave you grinning like you've met up with an old friend I can only assume you're a little bit heartless.