Patti Harrison review – whip-smart comic amps up the irony
Best known in the UK for her scene-stealing turn in BBC sitcom Shrill, Patti Harrison is prominent among a generation of female American comics – Catherine Cohen and imminent UK debutante Megan Stalter included – who are whip-smart, soaked in irony and fluent in the language of self-projection in the age of social media. Her affinity with those terrific acts is clear from the outset in her own UK debut, which sold out in a heartbeat. On comes Harrison, or the constructed version thereof: self-delighted, in no hurry to deliver jokes, secure in the assumption that we’re fascinated with everything she has to say.
She introduces herself by PowerPoint. She’s American, so we’re invited to pledge allegiance to the US flag (or is it?). She cares about friendship for which she has created an increasingly wacky acrostic. So far, so faux-anodyne – but Harrison’s nephew has sabotaged the presentation, scrawling “I miss Uncle Patrick” across the slides and inserting photos of Harrison pre-transition. That’s all part of the fun, though, for our affectless host – and for us, charmed by this off-beam incursion of Harrison’s trans identity into a show that otherwise barely mentions it.
The show pivots to musical comedy, and Harrison performs a series of improbable, so-bad-they’re-good parodies of Dua Lipa, Charlie XCX and Kate Bush. It takes her a while to get there: the show’s links are meandering. There are also joke-free monologues about Harrison being out of practice at standup, and about the weight of expectation on trans artists – which would be fine, but the heavily ironic atmosphere she established earlier makes it impossible to take anything she says at face value.
Related: Alfie Brown: Sensitive Man review – contrarian comic with a devilish twinkle
I ended up believing the bit about standup rustiness – because this is a good 75 minutes with a great hour struggling to get out. But its highlights are very bright. The send-up of millennial entitlement is done with a lovely light touch. Her Stevie Nicks song, meanwhile, about leaving a baby on a beach, and a Joanna Newsom number about an improbable love affair (featuring the bodily fluids of a certain political strategist) – both performed at full tilt with striking vocal verisimilitude – are unforgettably ridiculous.
