Claudia O'Doherty: Pioneer

A uniquely jarring experience awaits those who step into Claudia O'Doherty's domain. Last year she had audiences squirming with The Telescope, a hammy supernatural thriller that collapsed spectacularly under the weight of its own production values.

Here she returns to the theme of over-ambitious staging, but in this case the technical wonders aren't designed to malfunction – they're just so absurdly gratuitous that it eclipses all possibility of a proper show even taking place. Amid a sensory assault of special effects, O'Doherty plays an oppressively chirpy, overconfident narcissist trying to showcase all her purported talents at the same time.

She's made the move from Australia and intends to break into "the UK entertainment industry" through unconvincing bragging, a self-mythologising autobiography and much-trumpeted sections of "characters" and "acting". From behind a translucent projection screen, she screeches about how expensive it all was – a boast repeatedly made ridiculous as she breaks off to awkwardly plug her supposed sponsors, the titular electronics company. 

It's a dizzying, disjointed watch, as songs and clips butt in apropos of nothing and little subplots peek through, suggesting the terrible toll this pursuit of fame might be having on O'Doherty's life off stage. It could be that there's some grand comment being made about shows outside of her own, but it's far more likely she's playing it purely for laughs. Whatever has inspired O'Doherty to make false incompetence her speciality, she's certainly managed it, and in the process nails a naff aesthetic that's very hard to fake.