MALC McGOOKIN appreciates a graphic novel that records the history of the legendary peace camp and surveys the state of the right to protest in contemporary Britain
JAMES WALSH revels in a miscellany of beautifully observed characters, ranging from the parodic to the frankly batshit
Susan Harrison: Should I Still Be Doing This?
Soho Theatre
⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑
“SO,” asks character comedian Susan Harrison of an audience member, in her alter-ego guise of grotesque influencer Fleur Delish. “What do you do for a living?”
“I work in property,” comes the reply, and there’s a brief chill in the room — this bland, ominous phrase being the internationally understood euphemism for “evil wanker.”
It’s the only mildly uncomfortable moment of an otherwise joyous hour of improv, sketch and character comedy; it is also the one that brings into focus the point of the show. Which is not “should” Susan still be doing this — she absolutely should, she’s brilliant — but will future Susans even be able to?
Harrison, an accomplished and award-winning improviser and comedian, muses on the viability of her chosen career path between character transformations. Transitions can be awkward, but this approach turns these quick costume changes into gently bittersweet ruminations, as we see glimpses of the real Susan and her real concerns. She’s got no pension, and presumably no property portfolio. She’s in her forties. Who do the arts belong to, and who gets to be silly for a living in 2040?
For now, though, we’re treated to a miscellany of beautifully observed characters, ranging from the parodic to the frankly batshit.
Your reviewer’s own personal favourite is Sindy, whereby Harrison, with marshmallows stuffed in her cheeks, plays the crap, downtrodden British equivalent to the glamorous Barbie doll. Self-hating, small-minded, endlessly apologetic, Sindy gets her moment in the sun eventually, even if her denouement is more kitchen-sink drama than Californian transcendence.
The influencer character, Delish, is the one closest to real life, armed with her own podcast (“How To Be Your Authentic Self”) and an elevatedly infuriating accent, full of nasally tics and preposterously dragged-out noises, funny in themselves before we even get to the jokes. Throughout, Harrison’s voice work is impeccable — she never breaks character, even while singing, or desperately trying to rearrange a contortionist prop leg gone awry around the back of a willing audience member.
Still, it’s the most outré creations that almost blow the roof off. There’s a Mancunian panda with attitude, whose Oasis swagger and inverted voyeurism commentary leads to a gorgeously macabre punchline. Most incredibly of all, Harrison plays a woman who has accidentally swallowed a girl who’s trapped down a well, a creation so absurd it shouldn’t work, but does, utterly, due to the artist’s commitment. In fact, so completely have tonight’s audience bought into the illusion that when they are invited to ask the girl in the well questions — via a cardboard tube, so the questions can be shouted down Harrison’s mouth — they actually stand up and lean in to make sure the girl can hear.
An audience member, shouting a question into a cardboard tube, asking if a tiny girl in a well has any plans to escape, and everyone’s desperately invested in the answer: it’s glorious, it’s silly and it’s what live comedy should and must always be.
Susan Harrison performs at the Machynlleth Comedy Festival on Sunday May 3, and tours with Showstoppers: The Improvised Musical. For dates and tickets see: susanharrisoncomedy.com.



