Don't Tell Anyone About Sarah Callaghan

There comes a point in this brief solo showcase when Sarah Callaghan feels the need to spell something out to us. “I'm not a character act!” she remonstrates with what the audience has already begun to consider her trademark aggression. This claim seems a little disingenuous when one considers her background in acting: she trained at Chicago's prestigious Second City School. It's sure hard to get a grip on the performer. Certainly, if she really is the plain-speaking ladette that we see on stage, she knows to accentuate certain mannerisms and verbal tics, treating her personality as source material with which to construct a comedy alter-ego. Her constant use of colloquial language serves as an expectation-lowering device, the endless volley of "innits" and "geezers" providing a stark contrast to verbose turns of phrase and beautifully acidic put-downs.

Aged 22, Callaghan's status as a newcomer makes her something of an outsider to the comedy scene at large. She kicks things off by commenting on the posters of other acts and, while the eminently obscure Tim Roast probably doesn't deserve to be laughed at by strangers who haven't seen his act, her instinctive distrust of industry chumminess is a joy to behold. The inexperienced comic falters whenever she strays close to hot-button topics like disability and child abuse, but these moments register as blips on an otherwise magnificent performance. An absolute natural, Callaghan is definitely one to catch before she sells out for a big paycheck, which she undoubtedly has every intention of doing.