Anne Edmonds' show is framed as a long, dark night of the soul, in which an ill-conceived holiday that she and a friend took trapped them in bunk beds for 24 hours while they waited for a cyclone to pass. The Australian comic badgered her companion with every last thought that popped into her head. And you find yourself relating strongly to that girl in the bed above.
Notwithstanding some reflection on why she continues to fall for inappropriate men, there's no real theme or narrative to Edmonds' blurts, beyond a snapshot of some of the characters and eccentrics she's met in her homeland. From her mildly dysfunctional family to the delightfully oblivious woman whose default saying provides this show's title (offered without ever waiting for a response), the world is odd, Edmonds finds, her own quirks preventing her from comprehending the creepily perfect white bread family that she encounters while camping.
Unapologetically cruel at times, as when she celebrates the woman that she witnesses repeatedly tumbling down stairs at a concert, Edmonds nevertheless takes issue with the primitive young men that holler for Jim Jefferies' more brutal material, questioning the deep need in them to feel something misogynist. At her best, she's a wickedly unpredictable, evocative storyteller, loading her anecdotes with detail and punctuating her conversational delivery with barks of emphasis, even if her expressive performance is occasionally a cover for weaker material. Still, she's a charismatic act. And with greater structure and focus, you suspect that she might make a real impact in years to come.