Fiona Allen is after a white lie. It’s to get her out of going to her neighbours’ party. We understand. And that’s all there is to it. Ambushing us with relatability, Allen is a consummate storyteller, filling her narrative with tangents, jokes, quirky turns of phrases and similes, in a reassuring manner that manages to be pedestrian and elevated. Her show is both old school and fresh in not trying to overcome trauma or sardine-pack as many disconnected gags as possible into an allocated hour. She has an aim in sight from the of. The clarity is a tonic.
With echoes of Alan Bennett’s ‘Talking Heads’ and Dave Allen’s stool monologues, Fiona Allen has a great eye for finding the ridiculous in the mundane. She’s measured, thoughtful, mischievous, and a marvellous writer. The show consists of a linear narrative thread of a day, embroidered with offshoots showing glimpses of a husband who is annoyingly good at exposing her excuses, a neighbourhood WhatsApp group ripe for gentle exposure, and a Spanish mother who blows every hardship out of the water by comparing it to Franco. It’s without pretension and with an open delivery. Allen connects to her audience, addressing them directly, staying on point and on script in her disarming Lancashire brogue.
There’s conjuring in Allen’s phrases, punchlines mid sentence, and an honesty in her delivery so that I now really want to know what shitty presents she’s been sending to her sister. ‘White Lies’ is rich humorous storytelling.
Dining Room at Gilded Balloon Teviot, 18.00, August 5 – 29
https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/fiona-allen-white-lies
