As a rule, I loathe comedy. I much prefer to laugh at the misfortune of others. It’s less awkward. Although good comedy is, essentially, about the misfortune of others… but how often do you find good comedy?! Fortunately, Francesca Martinez manages to cover all the bases in a 45 minute squirm-fest that will have you laughing at how thoroughly inappropriate it actually is.
You see, Martinez is ‘wobbly’. Well, that’s her term. You and I would call it disabled. But Martinez uses this (dis)ability to great effect, ploughing the depths of an awkward adolescence and young adulthood to deliver some sterling laughs. Her disability? She refers to her condition as having the sort of name that would pass for a Doctor Who villain, circa the Tom Baker years. Yup, it’s that fancy.
For a girl whose career ambitions as a child amounted to being the person who would make up all the new telephone numbers, Martinez has done well for herself. She has deft comedic timing and, also, another seemingly hidden talent: poetry. Her poetry is, in fact, a highlight. She’s adept with the pen, her verse’s tumble and roll perfectly capturing the angst and yearn of a girl who had never been kissed by a guy before writing said poem. And… unfortunately… didn’t get kissed by afterward. But the show itself closes with a magnificent poem, Martinez clearly aware of her ability with the scope of her imagery and intent.
So if you are looking for comedy that will allow you to laugh at the misfortune of others, this show has that in spades. But it also has a sentiment, a heart, an honesty that can’t be denied. Which is an odd thing to walk away from a comedy show admiring, but then Martinez hardly seems to do normal at all, now does she.
Metcalfe Playhouse, Feb 14 & 15
Scott-Patrick Mitchell
