Review by Steve Bennett

Jackie emerges in an aptly comedic rah-rah cocktail dress and girlie tippy-toed strappy shoes - all very Eighties glam ­ before professing to 'coming out of the closet'. The heterosexual one, that is. Well, she actually came out as straight last year, but now she's a self-confessed man-eater.

She is happy and confident to engage the audience in risqué and at times positively bawdy banter, clearly not shy to explore subjects that even Kenny Everett's Cupid Stunt would deem 'in the worst possible taste'.

Clune is a talented singer, but often let down by lyrics limited to coarse observations about sex. Not that she cares, she delights in being as shocking and vulgar as possible.

It's all a bit reminiscent of your archetypal Northern cabaret turn that has polished her bits and made good.

But bizarrely, despite the subject matter, Clune's formulaic style and delivery can feel predictably safe.

It's as if her shocking material and brash delivery are nothing more than a shoulder-padded power suit that she exchanges for the comfortable cardigan of loveliness when off-stage.

Her effervescent charms ultimately win through, though, and she leaves the audience with the distinct impression that, even if not completely boy crazy, she is a nice girl at heart.

Review date: 1 Jan 2002
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett