Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

This sprawling, one-person hour from New York-based multi-discipline comic Liz Coin is a bit of a head-scratcher, a spoof with no obvious target and a knockabout romp of belated sincerity.

Coin is Lizzy Sunshine, one half of a double-act with her brother, Jamie Storm. They're motivational gurus who have a PowerPoint presentation of positive sloganeering that seems aimed at struggling adults. Yet, confusingly, all the window dressing around it seems to be for children, with the irrepressibly upbeat Lizzie in bright yellow attire, instigating singalongs.

Prior to the presentation-performance starting, however, we've learned that Jamie is running late. And, consummate trouper that she is, Lizzy is going to fill by doing all his parts as well, even the backflips and impersonations, when all she's got is a snatch of clumsy Borat.

Plastering on a rictus grin, repeating her 'show must go on!' mantra, Lizzy's outward professionalism is undermined by what's revealed in her dressing room between set-pieces, as she panickingly adapts the running order, prays and frantically tries to call her brother.

Her mentalism card trick is more positive platitude but endearingly rubbish, a volunteer is invited to blow bubbles and everyone gets a pair of literally rose-tinted sunglasses. The musical Annie is routinely invoked. And Sunshine's American optimism generally conquers British reserve to get the audience involved. Tellingly, one older lady spends an age rooting in her handbag for her reading glasses to assist in one skit, so determined is she to help the performer-in-need.

However, on the day I saw it, there was a mind-blowing moment when Sunshine suggests that all problems can be fixed, then seeks examples to cure from the crowd. After a couple of light-hearted responses, one audience member dropped the bombshell that her brother is dead. To a lady dressed as a children's entertainer.

Incredibly, not only did Coin take this eminently possible but still tonally impactful answer in her stride. But as Sunshine, she fobbed the woman off by advocating for religion as a consolation, somehow remaining both sensitive and true to her character, an indication perhaps of her scrambling charm.

Knock me down with a feather, though, if the very next sketch isn't Sunshine pulling on a beard and dressing up as a rapping Greek Orthodox Priest, for no narrative reason perhaps other than it's an expression of Coin's ancestral heritage. I'm losing my grip on reality right now, convinced I've not witnessed a brilliant plant in a production that, charitably, doesn't seem that sophisticated.

But if I didn't, fate struck harder than I imagined. Because the audience contribution foreshadowed the show's big reveal, albeit of a smaller magnitude, when the tragedy behind the pick-yourself-up-and-soldier-on mentality was disclosed, with distinctions between Coin and Sunshine becoming more difficult to discern.

There's a serious issue inspiring Lizzy Sunshine, and Coin clearly has real-world experience of it. The show is absolutely wild in its presentation and has serious flaws. But her commitment and peppy charisma keep it entertaining.

Review date: 10 Aug 2026
Reviewed by: Jay Richardson
Reviewed at: Gilded Balloon Teviot