Despite vaguely following the social media publicity, I still had little idea of what humour to expect from this ADC Lateshow when I walked into the theatre. Fifty-Fifty: A Stand Up Show was a fairly straightforward name that provided no particular cues – and yet therein lay part of its success. This show made no bold claims, yet charmed with its brazen content and created an atmosphere of definite buzz as the audience left the auditorium.

Comics Ania Magliano-Wright and Riss Obolensky each delivered their own half hour stand-up set, covering topics from the everyday mundane, to the overtly sexual, to the more personal, sinister considerations of existential dread and depression. At times absurdist, at times intimately real, this hour of self-reflexive comedy definitely triumphed.

The opening was short, but more importantly, energetic. Both performers succeeded in warming up the audience: Obolensky’s heckling caricatures from the seats of the audience provided the perfect foil to Magliano-Wright’s static repose as she remained on stage. The rapport built in this opening sequence showed the willingness of the performers to engage the audience in their comedy, and also ensured that those watching were more open to the company of these performers over the next hour.

Magliano-Wright’s dry and often deliberately curt delivery meant her commentary on the flaws of family members, previous partners, and significantly, herself, landed extremely well. She showed self-deprecation at its finest: greatly amusing but not embarrassingly self-indulgent. On the other hand, Obolensky’s integration of character comedy added an impressive performative edge to her overall fearless delivery, demonstrating her talent as both an actor and a comic. Without revealing punchlines, some highlights included both performers’ casual integration of callbacks throughout and Obolensky’s honest reflections on the balancing act between her lesbian and feminist identities, which proved to be one of the funniest moments of the night. The sex toy projection and use of a self-help book were great additions, enhancing the wonderful deconstructionist element of their comedy. 

Magliano-Wright and Obolensky performed with honesty and openness when discussing distressing experiences related to relationships or mental health. The richness and intrigue of their sets came as much from places of sadness and cynicism as they did from the times of more light-hearted, ‘safer’, comical sequences.

Striking was their handling of some flatter moments. What impressed were the ways both performers responded to the very occasional mistakes and dips in energy. The odd fluffing up of the delivery of a line or a tepid audience response to a punchline were perhaps relished almost as much as the times when a joke had landed perfectly. Their explicit awareness of these occasions was well-judged and produced some great laughs.

The midway interaction in the changeover between the acts (read: devised synchronised movement piece) was an unorthodox choice. It was well-intentioned but didn’t seem to add much. This, however, is a marginal criticism and certainly did not detract from the humour of the show.

With a stand-up show it is not that clear as to where exactly the contributions of a director lie, but I imagine this was mainly in the writing. The writing came across as tight, and very well edited and compiled, for which director Leo Reich should be commended for helping realise. The punchlines not only landed but also shocked. In fact, this probably represented Cambridge stand-up at its best: yes, the audience laughed throughout, but I, and I believe others, left actually remembering the punchlines and feeling different as compared to how I did when I entered the show.

Of course, this was a forgiving and welcoming audience (at one point the introductory mention of ‘learning to drive’ earnt an enthusiastic ‘woop’ from an audience member, for some reason). However, the material and these comedians’ comic instincts are both strong enough to deal with future, less familiar and potentially less supportive audiences. 

Though not note perfect, Fifty-Fifty: A Stand Up Show was shameless, hilarious, and actually rather touching. I would implore people to see this show in its Bristol and Edinburgh runs, during which I imagine it will go from strength to strength