Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

A hidden gem of the Fringe here, taking place at mid-afternoon in the back room of a coffee shop. New York-based comedian Becky Goodman has created her own lo-fi Crazy Ex-Girlfriend riff that punches well above its weight.

The show chronicles her early adulthood – a period in which, lacking self-confidence and worldliness in the same way we all do at 19, she developed a habit of sleeping with much older married men, initially losing her virginity to a ‘silver fox’ 41 years her senior who she blesses with a densely nasal Woody Allen voice. 

From there it’s a spiral of unwise Encounter until she signs up to a sugar daddy website and meets Sal, a lachrymose and lovelorn self-made Bronx man who she slowly begins to fall for.

The first 20 minutes pops like dynamite, as Goodman treats us to a whirlwind of charisma, wit and catchy songs. A very strong comedy songwriter and physical comedian, she clearly has many strings to her bow and is playing all of them at once.

How she lost her virginity is relayed via an awkward funk song while she dances the Macarena. Having dealt with that chapter, we’re instantly in Italy where an Italian stereotype who’s both acutely observed and laughably broad is hastily unscrewing his wedding ring to chat her up. 

The parade of middle-aged married assholes is as endless as it is in real life, but the show fairly rockets along, and almost every beat is hilarious, winning over the audience with extreme rapidity.

When Sal enters the picture, his soulful melancholy quickly begins to pervade the story, as Goodman’s ironic peppy façade drops away and real romantic feelings come to the fore for the first time.

Goodman is unafraid of darkness or of stretches without laughs, but it always feels controlled and intentional, and some of the funniest stretches also appear here. A wordless sketch of Goodman gradually starting to bop along to the hold music on the suicide prevention hotline was especially charming.

Although some aspects of Goodman’s relationship with Sal feel glossed over, time is found for an examination of how commerce makes an unstable foundation for loving relationships. 

This could even have been developed a little more, but Goodman saves the final few minutes for an undeniably crowdpleasing swerve in which she raps about the clitoris while wearing a huge felt vulva costume. Think of it as the cheeseboard after a fantastic meal.

Review date: 11 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Tim Harding
Reviewed at: PBH's Free Fringe @ Slow Progress