Original Review:

Show Rating:

Margaret Cho has the most incredible background - a Korean-American fag-hag raised by drag queens who's battled eating disorders, drug dependency and a stint as Quentin Tarantino's girlfriend.

Yet what comedic gold comes out of this amazing life? Tampon gags. "Isn't porn funny?" and the sort of lazy comedy by shock that idiots lap up in place of material.

And, it had to be said, a large part of this audience were in gales of laugher at this weakest of routines.

Maybe it's me. I don't think I was the target audience, being neither gay, American or moronically easy to please, but this is definitely a case of the emperess's new clothes.

It's all very well delivered, and Cho knows how to press an audience's buttons, but that's all this is - a perfect Pavlovian exchange.

Every outrageous reference receives an exaggerated laugh - but for what reason? She talks about being fisted by a lesbian (yes, this is how classy it is) for the sole purpose of saying the word. It's a sad day when you pine for a double in the entendre.

And it's all wrapped up with some sickly Springer 'be nice to yourself - and each other' type platitudes.

All very unexciting stuff.