An exhilarating, perplexing, intimidatingly intimate Edinburgh Festival Fringe experience
It’s a shame to have to give anything away about this show as it’s fun to experience it with no warning whatsoever. Beforehand, I only knew that it was being performed in a car so it was easy to guess that it would be somewhat intimate. Consequently, it is with much trepidation that I approach the small, blue hatchback parked in the grounds of a church off Clerk Street where a woman in a pink tutu greets me, slightly wild-eyed, with ‘are you here for the thing?’ and invites me to jump in the back.
Alarmingly, the back seats are down, there are red heart cushions all over the place and the walls are decorated with pictures of male comedians torn roughly from the Fringe brochure. I’m soon joined by two other brave audience members and we all sit knee by knee in the back as Oz clambers on the roof; bare legs occasionally appearing at the windows. She eventually climbs in and declares the meeting of ‘love addicts anonymous’ open.
There’s not a lot in the way of narrative here other than an emotional confession to being constantly distracted by boys. At only 20 minutes there’s not a lot of time to do anything and mostly it’s improvisation. But Oz’s oddball persona is hugely likeable and though she is often intimidatingly in-your-face, often only inches away from you as she talks, it becomes strangely comfortable.
The star rating here is largely a cop-out: the show is almost impossible to rate; it depends on how you take it or where Oz herself will have taken it by the end of the festival. Regardless, it’s an exhilarating, perplexing experience; exactly what a Fringe show should be.
C south, 0845 260 1234, until 25 Aug (not 12), 2pm, 2.30pm, 3pm, 4pm, 4.30pm, 5pm, £4.50–£6.50 (£3.50–£5.50).