It’s Not What You Say, Joanna Neary

Reviewing pre-Edinburgh Festival comedy acts.

With Joanna Neary you quickly learn to expect the unexpected.

When she entered the stage I have to say I was slightly alarmed. Here stood possibly the most nervous looking woman I had ever seen. In a trembling voice she literally begged those present not to heckle her. It would have been a cruel joker indeed to have challenged someone so apparently vulnerable.

She apologised that, due to technical difficulties, her planned Powerpoint presentation was not going to be possible, and she would be forced to proceed with her lecture using drawings instead.

Then, as this nervous wreck announced that her talk was on the subject of sex-toys. I realised that all was not as it seemed.

The more this wall-flower spoke of butt-plugs and the like, the more I realised what a clever comedic device this was, contrasting delivery style with content. This wasn’t an anxious, terrified performer, but a carefully constructed character, created by a professional. She went on to say that her boyfriend enjoyed role-playing in their relationship, often suggesting that they pretended to be married: “He waits until I’m asleep, then he looks at porn and has a wank.”

The more this wall-flower spoke of butt-plugs the more I realised her comedy is contrasting delivery style with content. Joanna slips out of character long enough to introduce herself properly. She explains that she doesn’t do stand-up; she does characters.

The material isn’t all jokes, but that isn’t to say it isn’t amusing or entertaining. It’s a refreshing change from the norm and keeps her performance pacey and varied.

Her next creation is based on Celia Johnson from Brief Encounter. In an old-fashioned hat and with a frightfully well-to-do accent she describes a day in her life when nothing of any interest happened. But this is done with mounting tension and breathlessness as though she was being swept off her feet in a moment of unbridled passion by ‘Bernard’, (whose curly ear-hair she had never noticed before). Again, there is much humour to be gleaned from the difference between what is being said, and how it is said.

The audience are treated to a wide variety of characters including the bongo-playing Fiona, who ‘lives, works and signs-on’ in Brighton, who applied for a government grant so that she could ‘take African music to Africa’; and Rosalind, who gives us bizarre answers to quiz questions. There is a Brummie Ghost Tour Guide; a cat – Mr Timkins – who deliberately annoys his owners in an effort to be re-housed, and many more.

Interspersed with the delightful characters there are comedy songs in widely differing styles to be enjoyed too, and Joanna seems to shine brightest when she is performing dance routines using literal translations of songs.

From this day forward, whenever I hear the song Without You, I will undoubtedly think of this woman’s hilarious interpretation.

Joanna Neary is a master of voices and character comedy, and like the rest of the audience, I was thrilled by the variety, charm and invention of her performance. Make sure you catch her if you have a chance.