Even at a festival where comedians routinely tackle thorny subjects, the matter of Kiri Pritchard-McLean’s new show feels unlikely: Appropriate Adult is about her volunteer work with vulnerable children.
It chronicles her mentoring relationship with one 15-year-old girl, including reflections on her own maternal instinct and the millennial generation’s refusal to reproduce. Pritchard-McLean has form in tackling uncomfortable topics: her 2016 fringe debut addressed the vexed question of sexism in comedy. That show was good; this one’s better. Pritchard-McLean’s confidence and craft and has come on in bounds, and her new set is packed with laughs and not short of narrative incident.
But should we be laughing at a story about a vulnerable child? Pritchard-McLean is alert to the ethical concerns: names are changed, and she makes fairly sure it’s mentor not mentee who’s the butt of the jokes. Principle among them is the running one about her motivation for volunteering: is it so she can help others, or so she can be smug? A parallel concern finds our host measuring her every caring action on a scale running from “good mum” – selfless and nurturing – to “cool mum”, who she’d much rather be.
As that implies, this isn’t a worthy show – at least until the curtain call, when Pritchard-McLean openly admits she hopes it inspires us to do some volunteering ourselves. She’s certainly a good advert for a social conscience, coming across as someone to whom life – its ups and downs (including a recent breakup) notwithstanding – is huge fun, and to whom earthy humour and a sense of her own ridiculousness is reflex. There’s choice material on being a 30-year-old nightclubber, the moral superiority of porn to alt-right politics, and “John Wayne-ing it around” with an outsized menstrual cup in her vagina. Pious, it’s not.
What’s most impressive is the command with which Pritchard-McLean dispatches the material. This feels like a precision-tooled set It’s pacey and lean; no opportunity is missed for a second laugh to build upon the first; every joke comes with a just-as-funny aside. The three strands (volunteer work; maternal instinct; millennial angst) flow together smoothly. It’s a level of control that’s essential, as her mentoring responsibilities grow more complex and her story and turns towards a troubled conclusion. You won’t get a redemptive finale, but you do get an hour in the hands of an increasingly impressive comic, making powerhouse standup from the thorniest of subjects.
• At the Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh, until 28 August. Box office: 0131-556 6550.
