Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Few careers advisors would suggest ‘pretending to be a woman who swallowed a girl who’s trapped in a well’ as a viable vocation, so it’s no wonder oddball character comedian Susan Harrison is starting to entertain thoughts of getting a proper job now she’s in her 40s.

Whatever her decision, she so obviously enjoys the hour in which she gets to play on stage at the Fringe every night. Even in her least upbeat creations, she spreads that clownish sense of fun around the room.

The positivity starts with the ‘volunteer usher' who welcomes the audience, enthusiastically  trilling variations of: ‘Bloody hell, it’s so nice to meet you’ at everyone who walks through the door. When the real Harrison voices the titular concern about whether she should still be doing this, she’s told: ‘Don’t be silly!’ Though it’s probably too late for that advice.

Harrison’s first character is the best, as she conjures up Sindy, the low-rent British equivalent of Barbie, riddled with insecurities and self-hatred compared to her confident American counterpart. In a sketch full of strong jokes we learn she’s not getting a glitzy Hollywood movie, but a gritty, harrowing drama about deprivation.

As host of the How To Be Your Authentic Self podcast, Fleur Delish is the most straightforwardly parodic creation, mocking the easy target of trite and vacuous self-anointed self-help gurus. Determining the spirit animal of various audience members is a simple enough bit of crowd work, but elevated by the nasal, tight-throated voices Harrison gives to her alter-ego.

That Harrison is stronger on more absurd creations is proved by the panda, a chippy Mancunian spoiling for a fight with the humans who invade his privacy on a daily basis. Meanwhile the aforementioned woman who swallowed a girl in a well impresses for its audacity, even if the execution is necessarily complex. It also sets up a quick sketch which lets Harrison give full rein to her inner goblin, scurrying edgily around the room.

Finally, Shaleesa, a contortionist past her prime, her flexibility now hampered by brittle bones, concerned that people no longer want to watch her brand of contortionism, but acutely aware of how much she missed it during lockdown. 

This is not a deeply buried subtext for the thoughts going through Harrison’s mind. This segment also includes the old improv game of creating a story one word at a time, with an audience volunteer proving surprisingly adept. Quite how this fitted with the character is moot, but it’s all a bit of fun, innit?

• Chortle’s coverage of sketch and multi-character acts at the Edinburgh Fringe is supported by (but not influenced by) the Seven Dials Playhouse. Read more

Review date: 21 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Gilded Balloon at Appleton Tower