In the rickety, bomb shelteresque ‘Beside’ venue, located deep in the bowels of the Pleasance Courtyard, Zoe Lyons is in typical, yarn-spinning mood. Now she’s 39 (not 40, she is at pains to make clear), her show largely consists in contemplative life assessment, looking as far back to a bizarre yet seminal trip to Glastonbury where her 16-year-old self took ‘magic’ fudge with members of a Kate Bush fan club. Her acerbic wit is applied deftly to some standard comedy fare such as Justin Bieber and reality television contestants. There are some more experimental passages: a drug-fuelled trip to Amsterdam and an absurd telephone call to Manet, the 19th-century Impressionist painter, are as engaging as they are surreal. While Lyons’ verbose comedy style and great stage presence ensure that she is able to hold the audience’s attention for the whole hour, the show itself seems somewhat laboured and mechanistic. Lyons’ set is one where the seams are certainly showing, with segues between her stories being far from subtle. Furthermore, the use of twin background television screens as an attempt to aid the routines was unnecessary and distracting. This cumbersome progression may have been understandable if Clownbusting had been in its infancy. However, the fact that Lyons has been performing this show for almost a year means that she’s had more than enough time to iron out these discrepancies. Despite this, Lyons’ turn of phrase and effortless charm means it’s an enjoyable show. A routine about an excruciatingly humiliating trip to a Brighton nudist beach is perhaps the highlight of the hour, and more like this might mean Lyons becomes a household name (even if it will be after her 40th birthday!)
