Caroline Hardie: Does my Face Look Big in This?

Ignore the spelling and it's an apt surname, Hardie. Caroline bounces on with nary a hint of disappointment or desperation despite a sparse midweek crowd that will be tough to extract any energy from, as responsive as the cadavers poked by this medical lecture theatre's usual clientele. As a punter, too, the heart can sink when stumbling into such an arid environment, but mercifully our host alleviates any need to slap on the rictus grin. Apart from a saggy bit towards the back-end, this is an enjoyably perky show by a multi-talented performer.

Hardie is billed as a character comic but her second Fringe hour is an amalgam of styles, taking in sketches, quirky visual bits, several characters and sizeable bouts of standup to link everything together. It's directed by the versatile Fringe veteran Thom Tuck, and certainly holds the attention, as Hardie puts herself through various physical exertions, including hitting herself repeatedly in two of her most important areas. By the end her microphone stand is looking decidedly the worse for wear, as is her hair, chiefly due to an excellent bit about blow-drying. Yes, it is unashamedly girl-centric in places, but accessible all the same.

Unfortunately—and this must be a factor, turnout-wise—Hardie has also saddled herself with one of this year's worst show titles, which looks appallingly lazy in list form but makes a certain amount of sense when you see the poster and hear her intro. Don't be deterred: Hardie is much worthier of your attention than it suggests.