How To Be Awesome: An Introduction
Live Review

Lou Sanders has great vulnerability on stage. Even before she identified herself as a hippy chick, I’d made the note. She’s gaspy, breathy, childlike, knowing – a bit disingenuous maybe, with her screechy excitement about ponies and princesses, telling a fairy story like a tall six-year-old.  Like a child showing off she’s got some amazing, wonky homemade props, bags of energy and a certain amount of charm. 

The show seems to start with a finale  using  a barrage of lo-fi special effects.  She gabbles, digresses, interrupts herself, introduces soft toys as characters and films members.   You will find this endearing or irritating, she may appeal to your sense of playfulness or you might want her to shut up and grow up, as she flaunts her comedy ADHD.

She uses tons of audience interaction, filming her targets, impersonates a rotten cliché of an open spot, which is a bit rich, and finishes on a fantastic high, which I won’t spoil by revealing here.  She’s says she’s shambolic, which is a bit of an understatement, but it takes real organisation to allow the chaos run its course. 

It’s childlike and innocent, which isn’t particularly my thing, but the room seemed captivated by her.  It just makes me wonder who she’s doing this for, as she brings us into her candy-coloured world.  I don’t question that she needed to make this show for herself, but for me it’s the equivalent of a child’s painting stuck on the fridge door, beloved by the artist and their nearest and dearest, but of less certain appeal to other adults.