Sara Pascoe vs the Truth

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In her previous Fringe shows, Sara Pascoe has gone head to head with both the apocalypse and her own ego, playing fast and loose with fact and fiction. This latest offering finds her opposing the very concept of truth and, although her argument that all belief is subjective undermines critical response to her work, it is easily her most accomplished hour to date.

Frank discussion of the circumstances in which she was conceived provides the set with its obligatory moments of discomfort, Pascoe peppering the show with complaints about her current relationship of nine years just for good measure. One routine, in which our hero explains why she isn't an alcoholic, could easily be construed as a serious cry for help. What makes the show so effective as a whole, however, is the way these moments jar with the endearing whimsy that we're treated to elsewhere.

Arriving onstage in a misspelled Friedrich Nietzsche T-shirt, Pascoe is as enthusiastic discussing the theology that informs her worldview as she is the compatibility of communion wafers and the Atkins Diet. She lets the audience in on her secret for ensuring that her sound technician's fee is money well spent and speaks with sincere fondness for the mice that infest her home.

Unfortunately, while the contrasting sides of the performer's character complement each other and make it appropriately challenging for us to get a handle on her as a person, Pascoe neglects to ever really tie them together. As such, a clever and original show is denied the cohesive, satisfying conclusion that it deserves.