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Not just a show...more like a relationship. Extraordinary!
Review by Kate Copstick for The Scotsman

Ever since a fairly well known performer turned round and said to me “I identify as a lesbian who sleeps with men,” I have worried about labels. Ultimately labels are for people who aren’t interested enough to find out for themselves. So whether you ultimately decide Stevie Jay is a comic or a poet or a philosopher or a complete wanker is up to you. What I will tell you is that I had a really great experience making that decision for myself.

This is not just a show. It is more like a relationship. For a couple of hours in a room above a pub in Earl's Court, you simply feel as if you have just found a new best friend who is the funniest, warmest, nicest, and most fascinating man you have ever met.

He is American—which, of course means he tells you things in the first five minutes that you could celebrate a Ruby Anniversary with an Englishman and not know about him. He is barefoot. He is wired. And it seems he is really talking to you, personally—to the extent that I found myself with an almost overwhelming urge to talk back to him. Thankfully, for the rest of the audience, I quelled my urge. No other performer has ever had so personal an effect on me. Extraordinary!

He calls the evening Life Love Sex Death....and other works in progress and it is all of that and more. He quotes Erich Fromm’s ‘The Art of Loving’, he does abdominal crunches to an appallingly funny dance mix dub of Schindler’s List, he talks about dogs and life and sex and chakras. What he does on the floor with a pine barstool will make you see the possibilities of an afternoon in Ikea in a whole new light. And when his guardian angel materialises, he is called Neal. His material is un-Englishly confessional, even occasionally confrontational, but his comedic skills mean it is never California-cloyingly so.


Jay—(actually it feels insufficiently warm to call him ‘Jay’, so I’ll call him Stevie)—Stevie has the kind of compelling puppy dog vulnerability the young Gene Wilder had, and the groin-warming smile of the young John Travolta. It is a formidable combination to which he adds a wonderful way with one-liners, some clever production and a lot of leopardskin.

Prepare to laugh, care, and help Neal get Stevie back into his body.

Kate Copstick for The Scotsman

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