Alice Snedden was so convinced that she was destined to turn into her mother that she didn't notice that she was turning into her flakey father. That was until, just like dad, she lost her car. For six whole months. Highly Credible is her wonderfully witty account of the experience, a life lesson that taught her that there are two sides to every mishap.
But before we get to her entertaining tale of the vanishing vehicle in Hackney there's some catching up admin. This is the Kiwi comic's first full show in five years, in which time she has settled into a happy lesbian relationship. Well, it's happy when her partner agrees with her and isn't secretly practicing karaoke.
She modestly doesn't mention that she has also been busy co-writing the hit sitcom Starstruck with her friend Rose Matafeo. Like Matafeo Snedden has an endearing quirky streak. She doesn't do the washing up when she visits her parents, she explains, she is "in charge of vibes". She has been known to go searching for her airpods while she is listening to a podcast on her airpods.
Oh, and she has a fondness for cummerbunds. Other comics tackle childhood trauma, she jokes, she tackles "bras for bellies". This unlikely topic segues neatly into the main spine of the set, about her meandering motor and the subsequent court battle over the heap of unpaid parking tickets on the windscreen when it miraculously resurfaced.
Snedden presents her case onstage as if she is the defence counsel and the audience is the jury. Was the car stolen or did she merely mislay it? When the evidence against her mounts – did she really never walk past it? – she doubles down in the funniest fashion possible.
Threads and callbacks are weaved together in winning style. Along the way there is a vivid memory of going to an all-girls school where bullying felt like part of the curriculum and a sitcom-worthy anecdote about spotting her ex-GP and ex-therapist in conversation. The angst-prone stand-up immediately concludes wrongly that they are comparing notes about her.
As for the car, there's the piffling matter of the lack of insurance and the trifling issue of something illicit in the glove compartment. Snedden is by turns self-deprecating and self-centred, maybe not that useful when dealing with the police, but very good for comedy.
The central story might be slightly shaggy, but Snedden shapes it into a battle of wills over her disappearing wheels. This might sound like a minor incident over some penalty charges but she creates a hilariously epic saga about her fight for justice. An hour of appealing comedy in various senses.
Soho Theatre, until Saturday; sohotheatre.com
