I don’t usually rave; I’m not that sort, and my capacity for enthusiasm about anything other than tea and mini eggs is sadly lacking. However, Rookie, the all-female comedy sketchy show at the Playrooms this week left me reeling in humour-stricken awe.

Rookie features six sickeningly talented women performing a dizzying array of no less than twenty-seven sketches from accidental rabbit-sex to toothpaste impressions. With such a spectrum of material to comment on I can only think to begin at the beginning…

The opening sketch saw Guilia Galastro and Emma Powell out-knitting each other; the two exchanged scornful glances across the Playroom which had the audience convulsing before the first piece of dialogue was even uttered. This culminated in Powell announcing that her wool was ‘dyed with the blood of a Griffin’ a line which encapsulates the register of Rookie’s humour, that is, witty observation infused with a good ounce of the absurd.

The show grew in comedic strength to the point where the grasp of my pen eluded me for laughing, as I watched Emma Powell and Ellie Nunn host a makeshift radio show in which every theme tune, sound effect and character were created solely by their voices.  The shaking over-worked voice actor (Powell) and the show’s husky presenter (Nunn) staged a racing Miss Marple radio drama spoof in which Powell ricocheted between characters including Bunny Shavington, Lord and Lady Crumpleworth and Nigel; professionally sliding between accents, genders and their corresponding hats.

The elephant in the room of this review is perhaps Rookie’s significance as an all-female sketch show stamping into the male-dominated Cambridge comedy scene. However, the more I attempt to concoct platitudes of female solidarity (so ‘bold’ such ‘courage’ etc.), the more I feel their irrelevance. Rookie stands alone, confidently, as a damn good piece of comedy without taking itself too seriously as a ‘statement’ of female capabilities. Not only do the cast debilitate us with laughter, making us forget the rarity of all-female sketch shows but they were also all notably talented singers and actors (although their dancing was questionable).

There comes a point in excellent comedy shows when the performer has proven themselves, and the climate in the theatre is such that every glance, every smirk and even, rarely, the very presence of the performer becomes amusing. Rookie established this climate rapidly and confidently; never before have I heard so many people in one room laughing at the mere silent act of a fitting a cover on a duvet.