In the course of this solo show, Laura House spends a lot of time on light self-mockery — calling herself out for indulging some of the most tired old tropes of solo shows (“SOLOSHOW, SOLOSHOW, SOLOSHOW… CANCER, CANCER, CANCER” a loudspeaker echoes, after House begins a bit about cancer). Unfortunately, it is, in fact, still a solo show with an unironic bit about cancer. Calling herself out for it doesn’t change that.
There are a few really hilarious moments — House is obviously an extremely gifted comic writer. But I feel like this show isn’t quite sure what it is. It hovers half-way between a dramatic monologue and a standup routine, and I think it might benefit from committing to one or the other. To be effective in a performance setting, it needs to be more than just therapy for the artist. There’s an interesting notion or two here… At the moment it’s just a bit underdeveloped.