I’ll be honest with you, when sitting in a boiling hot venue that smells of vomit the last thing I think I want to talk about is soup. Hot soup. No matter how convenient and economical it is. Fortunately, in spite of naming her show after one of her favourite meals, Alison Spittle does not actually linger on the subject of soup that long.
Rather it’s a jumping-off point for Alison to discuss all manner of things centering not on soup but on the cost of living, shame, and what self-care is. A natural comedian, Alison’s performance seems effortless. The show meanders and sometimes seems to swerve quite far off-topic, partly because Alison is very concerned about her audience getting too hot and frequently interrupts herself to kindly point an electric fan at us.
This sweetness doesn’t quite tally with her claim to be rather spiteful on occasion. Plotting intricate ways to seek revenge that range from organising a hen do really well, to karaoke. It could be the heat (did I mention it’s quite a hot room), but sometimes I’m not quite sure how Alison has got to various subjects, but she’s such good company it doesn’t seem to matter.
So pleasant is her company that it means we’re very invested when Alison discusses her C-PTSD and how it manifests in panic attacks, this comedian and her balcony garden must be protected at all costs. When Alison seeks therapy to help her cope with the incident she finds that she has fallen victim to the comedians’ habit of mining all experiences (good or bad, usually bad) for material. It’s an interesting insight into how the mind works to protect you and the limits of what a facemask can do for your mental health.
★★★★
Alison Spittle: Soup is at Monkey Barrel, The Hive 1 at 13:25 until 27th August (not 14th). For tickets click here!
