Pippa Evans: Don't Worry, I Don't Know Who I am Either

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Some posh comedians disguise the fact. Others try to atone for their good fortune by focusing on some defect in their personality, a streak of discontent to mine for comedy gold. Pippa Evans is too grown-up to try the former tactic, and too well-adjusted (well, she seems to be on the basis of 50 minutes' observation in a cellar) for the latter. She went to a girl's school and gives off a jolly hockey-sticks vibe. She volunteers for things in the community, and some of that enthusiasm—an air of chivvying people along for their own good—carries over into her comedy. In fact, it's her relentless chivvying that makes sure that this unstructured assortment of songs and character work is a qualified success, rather than a mess.

A pianist smiling at the back of the stage accompanies the songs and signals when Evans is introducing a new character with the Batman theme (obviously we have to sing along). Evans's voice is terrific, and some of the songs, such as a music-hall knees-up with all the innuendos removed, are good fun. In others—a whole song about a wife murdering her husband because she was "hangry"?—the material falls short of the execution. None of the characters on show, meanwhile, can hold a candle to Evans's most celebrated creation, booze-soaked indie singer Loretta Maine. Evans has talent in abundance, and enough of Don't Worry... hits the mark to keep the audience happy, but it's hard to escape the feeling that she's used this show to dump a bagful of ideas that didn't fit anywhere else.