Sarah Millican's performance tonight is one of the most consistent and accomplished I have ever seen at the Fringe.
A packed audience at the Stand, a venue favoured by many established comics as somewhere more "grown-up", forget the meaning of the word "listless" as the chirpy Geordie gossips her way through an hour of skilful observations on her domestic foibles.
Recognising that being a chatterbox, a nickname she earned at school, is a cover for anxiety and an inability to relax, the 35-year-old comedian delves into the aspects of her life that show that she is rarely at ease. She corrects the grammar on the soft-porn channel Babestation (the only thing on when she finishes work, she says), for example, and in pondering what might help her to relax, she comes up with an unorthodox combination of a hot bath, a cup of tea and some tropical fish.
Not relying as much on the audience as she did for her previous show, Millican still creates a close connection through her subject matter, notching up Brownie points for avoiding clichés while implanting images that will resonate with anyone – the guilty pleasure of wandering around your flat naked even if it means your neighbours start buying curtains when they didn't have them before.
While her love of desserts – she calls herself a "cake pigeon" because she coos outside bakery windows – might sound reminiscent of Jo Brand, Millican is very much her own woman. And she's oven-ready for even bigger and better things.
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