Some of the best shows defy categorisation. So do some of the worst. Step forward, Sandra Bernhard. You could call her a comedian, a raconteur or a singer, but she may best be thought of as a personality, whose fans whoop at her every cursory remark. There are plenty of those in a show that seems casually tossed off, as its half-hour of waffle devolves into a karaoke sing-along to a half-full theatre in a town Bernhard confesses she has never heard of.
"You should have come to Brighton," shouts someone in the crowd. "Tell that to the promoter," retorts Bernhard, not bothering to conceal her bemusement at a one-week tour that takes her from Huddersfield via Worthing to Croydon.
It's an odd schedule for a show that's all about glamour and glitz. Madonna's supposed ex-lover is considered (not least by herself) to be a satirist of celebrity culture, but on this evidence, she's in thrall to it. It is not just that her whole set presupposes the crowd's excitement at being in the same room as her. It is that her show would be of zero interest unless you care who Nicole Richie and Tom Ford are, how much a Manolo Blahnik shoe costs or what Justin Timberlake is like when he sings.
Of course, we don't necessarily expect ace material from Bernhard. The humour is meant to lie in the waspish delivery - this is a woman who can deliver a stiletto-pierce to the reputation at 20 paces. But not tonight. The spoken-word section of the evening consists of lame and free-floating utterances on blogging, Simon Cowell and veganism, plus a few unexceptional passages derisively quoted from a book called The Way to Happiness. The only sequence that appears to have been prepared is a dreamy monologue, underscored by piano, in which Bernhard takes the errant Britney Spears under her wing.
So what's to like? Well, Bernhard is imperiously at ease on stage, prowling it like a lioness. She undoubtedly possesses charisma. The question is, why apply it to a medley that includes Guns N' Roses' Welcome to the Jungle and Whitesnake's deathless Here I Go Again? The second half of the show indulges Bernhard's rock fantasies, as she struts around in kinky cop costume, elbowing her four-piece band aside one by one to show that she can play their instruments too. The ego, certainly, is too big for Worthing. The talent, less obviously so.
· At Shaw Theatre, London (0870 033 2600), until Saturday. Then touring.
