Who among us, deciding instantly on a course of action, has never made the wrong call? Maisie Adam’s stage is decorated with photos strung from a clothes line: mugshots of celebs brought low by their public indiscretions. Here is Hugh Grant, rueful but raffish after being caught on Sunset Boulevard with his pants down. Here’s Winona Ryder, repenting the theft of $5,000 worth of underwear. Adam has a kind word for them all. They screwed up, but at least, she says, they owned their mistakes. Who among us could do more? That’s the argument of Adam’s sophomore show Hang Fire, and it’s as unremarkable as I’ve made it sound until her big reveal, 10 minutes from the end. Until then, this is no more than a likable standup set, elucidating Adam’s hokey philosophy of mistake-making with teenage anecdotes and tales of the misbehaving famous. We hear about an illicit New Year’s Eve party that she tries to conceal from her mum, and about the clumsy retreat she once beat from a one-night stand.
With her gawky mannerisms and amusing routines on, say, the hierarchy of women’s pants, it’s endearing stuff, the more so because the Yorkshire native is ploughing on tonight through a severe cold. But it’s only in this short set’s latter moments that the personal significance becomes clear of her warning against rushes to judgment in the court of public opinion. A greater portion of the show should be dedicated to the extraordinary story she then tells – which left me wanting to know more. As it is, this is personable, pedestrian standup distinguished by a sucker-punch final act.
• At Soho theatre, London, 15 January. Then touring until 30 May.
