Lucie Pohl: Cry Me a Liver
Often obvious series of NYC characters brought to excessive life by an undoubted talent
This article is from 2015.
Having made her Fringe debut last year with a deeply personal show entitled Hi Hitler, this American comic-actor with a German heritage is back. Lucie Pohl’s one-woman sketch affair features a diverse bunch of ill-fitting, contradictory and occasionally delusional New Yorkers. Indisputably brimful of talent, she has quality to burn on a series of oddballs which include a homeless guy who is the proud boss of his own corner, an ageing Republican claiming to be a serious environmentalist fond of making inappropriate remarks towards his offstage carer and, most intriguingly, one of Putin’s sperm.
Pohl is able to wholly transform herself with a stoop, a swagger or by merest dint of a new shape to her mouth. The best moments lie in the darkest recesses, such as the English migrant attempting to tell her mother over the phone that her new life in the Big Apple is a total triumph (it’s not) or a dim-witted and massively gummed murderer.
Least successful are the more predictable, déjà vu types such as the over-demanding mother punishing her small son (whose later cameo is a non-event) while her German motivational expert inflicted by a form of non-cursing Tourette’s is perhaps a little bit too Dr Strangelove. And do we really need another young airhead wittering almost exclusively in hashtags and OMGs?
Gilded Balloon, 622 6552, until 31 Aug, 4pm, £8–£9 (£7–£8).