Erin McGathy: Love You Loudly
A repetitive and irritating musing on one person's disastrous love life
While there's little doubt that Erin McGathy has experienced a tough time in the love stakes, it's more difficult to concede that she's come anywhere near creating a Fringe show that makes you care a whole lot. She may have our sympathy in gently batting away the unwanted interruptions of a disappointingly drunk elderly Scot, but even if this blunts her hour's final section, it's fairly clear by then that Love You Loudly is not the sharpest knife in the Fringe comedy drawer.
With sections informally marked by the repetitive phrase 'and then after that, I went out with … ', you feel as though you're looking over a teenage girl's shoulder and reading the least insightful or interesting entries in her diary. Everyone she hooks up with is either a 'ding dong or weirdo', and she recalls a fight she had with a boyfriend during their podcast as though it's the most relatable thing in the world. And she leaves phrase like 'I then had the opportunity to volunteer on a farm in Ireland' hanging in the air with no awareness that it might be worthy of some context.
At this Fringe, much potent comedy has been cultivated from pain and despair, but Erin McGathy's contribution will only irritate and bore.
Gilded Balloon at the Counting House, until 29 Aug, 2pm, £5 or Pay What You Want.