Zoe Lyons packs out the Gilded Balloon with stand-up that raises the bar for Fringe comedy. Lyons gives us a dry view of the world in her sarky portrayal of the state of things, exploring the ways in which different things, and people, can be “entry level.”
Lyons blew my expectations with her sheer energy.
This format allows for a pleasing combination of small scale observations, personal anecdotes and larger political commentary. Her comedy therefore shifts between such varied topics as flies, Brexit, Wi-Fi and Boris Johnson. Despite being obviously liberal, her political points on isolationism push the boundaries of the standard Left with hilarious results.
We live in such a mockable society that it would be easy for the jokes to be overdone but Lyons manages to avoid being too obvious with her criticisms. Lyons is not afraid to savage about society, about the audience, and about herself. By sparing no one, she avoids serious offence.
Having only experienced her behind the confines of a desk on comedy panel shows, Lyons blew my expectations with her sheer energy. She flies across the stage in a variety of characterisations, altering her voice and body language in weird and wonderful ways. It’s refreshing to see a comedian use the whole stage effectively rather than clinging to a mic stand, pint or table. She doesn’t impersonate as much as simply make herself sillier. Sometimes the expressions and voices go too far in their ridiculousness but this is a worthy sacrifice for the overall level of zest.
Her use of the microphone is unique in itself, utilising distance and percussion for powerful comic effect. Her pacing is skilled; despite the extreme enthusiasm, Lyons knows when to hold her audience in pauses.
Lyons really knows what she’s doing; go and see her before her venues get too huge.
