Review: Jenny Lion: As Seen on TV
Edinburgh College of Art, Sweet, Studio 1, Edinburgh, oddly enough
A comedy show with a quiz? How could one not endure a four-and-a-half train journey from hell to see it. And see it I did. Obviously.
Jenny's show is not a hilarious summation of her time spent on quiz shows, hobnobbing with Paxo and John Humphrys as well as various trivia luminaries and their lovely knitwear and haircuts, but a mock-pub quiz in a tiki/Hawaiian theme pub.
Only it is a quiz, with three-rounds of testing and interesting trivia, which the audience take part in. See, you gotta love it.
Audience participation is encouraged with various interruptions, bonus answers and sarky remarks ("What can I do to improve this act?" "Research!"). The rewards are suggestively packaged, frottage-enhanced sweeties of apple, cherry and other, oo-er, fruity flavours. Being chucked at your head. Be careful, her aim is sometimes not so true.
Contrary to scathing press reports (boo hiss, Threeweeks!) written by idiot amateur writers who know nothing about what makes a good quiz or what makes trivia interesting and would rather tear apart shows to twang their own sadistic pleasure nerves, it is good fun, delving and diverting into such subjects as pet cat being incinerated impersonally in Salford, her tragic exclusion from the rounders squad (20 players chosen from 21 in her year), and rousing disapproval of the Pirates of the Caribbean sequel. All crushing disappointments many can nod their heads in agreement at.
Although I have to take issue with the rejection my own rendition of the Eastenders' theme tune, which I did to the lyrics of Anita Dobson's classic Anyone Can Fall In Love rather than "Eastenders, Eastenders, Eastenders", when called upon to recite a soap opera theme tune. I was thinking laterally or trivially, if you will. It deserved the whole world on a stick as a prize. Or maybe just another rude confection.
I also took issue with my own rusty, scrappy, junkyardy performance. Yes, I won with 23 points (Hurrah! I am the champion!) and got to wave the winner's pineapple around my head like a regular Cafu or Cannavaro, but, boy, did I lose a number of annoying points on questions concerning the smallest prime number, what the second T in HTTP stood for, the name of Prince Andrew's daughter, the world's second ever female Prime Minister, the name of the village in Emmerdale and identifying Jacqueline Wilson's creation Tracy Beaker from some place she once lived or summat, all of which would have cost me dear in a more competitive environment.
Well, it was a long rail trip surrounded by boisterious Russian students (I saw them on the street the next day and did consider shouting my favourite songs in their ears and trying out my ring tones for half an hour). I was slightly tired and emotional. At least, that's my excuse. As it is every time I get on the train to quiz in far off provincial places. "It was British rail that did me in again, I tells ya!."
Anyway, enough about me, me, me. My considered, utterly quiz-biased verdict? By the end of the night you are guaranteed to be left amused, trivia-sated and rushing with cheap lovely sugar flowing through your body and brain.
And anyway, it's a quiz. That's a quiz. Q-U-I-Z. People you and I know should flock hither. Strangers too. You won't be disappointed (unlike certain Russell Brand lookalikes who sloped out of the door before the end - Boo hiss, loping, lanky Brandalike you! Bah, he was rubbish at the quiz anyway).
A comedy show with a quiz? How could one not endure a four-and-a-half train journey from hell to see it. And see it I did. Obviously.
Jenny's show is not a hilarious summation of her time spent on quiz shows, hobnobbing with Paxo and John Humphrys as well as various trivia luminaries and their lovely knitwear and haircuts, but a mock-pub quiz in a tiki/Hawaiian theme pub.
Only it is a quiz, with three-rounds of testing and interesting trivia, which the audience take part in. See, you gotta love it.
Audience participation is encouraged with various interruptions, bonus answers and sarky remarks ("What can I do to improve this act?" "Research!"). The rewards are suggestively packaged, frottage-enhanced sweeties of apple, cherry and other, oo-er, fruity flavours. Being chucked at your head. Be careful, her aim is sometimes not so true.
Contrary to scathing press reports (boo hiss, Threeweeks!) written by idiot amateur writers who know nothing about what makes a good quiz or what makes trivia interesting and would rather tear apart shows to twang their own sadistic pleasure nerves, it is good fun, delving and diverting into such subjects as pet cat being incinerated impersonally in Salford, her tragic exclusion from the rounders squad (20 players chosen from 21 in her year), and rousing disapproval of the Pirates of the Caribbean sequel. All crushing disappointments many can nod their heads in agreement at.
Although I have to take issue with the rejection my own rendition of the Eastenders' theme tune, which I did to the lyrics of Anita Dobson's classic Anyone Can Fall In Love rather than "Eastenders, Eastenders, Eastenders", when called upon to recite a soap opera theme tune. I was thinking laterally or trivially, if you will. It deserved the whole world on a stick as a prize. Or maybe just another rude confection.
I also took issue with my own rusty, scrappy, junkyardy performance. Yes, I won with 23 points (Hurrah! I am the champion!) and got to wave the winner's pineapple around my head like a regular Cafu or Cannavaro, but, boy, did I lose a number of annoying points on questions concerning the smallest prime number, what the second T in HTTP stood for, the name of Prince Andrew's daughter, the world's second ever female Prime Minister, the name of the village in Emmerdale and identifying Jacqueline Wilson's creation Tracy Beaker from some place she once lived or summat, all of which would have cost me dear in a more competitive environment.
Well, it was a long rail trip surrounded by boisterious Russian students (I saw them on the street the next day and did consider shouting my favourite songs in their ears and trying out my ring tones for half an hour). I was slightly tired and emotional. At least, that's my excuse. As it is every time I get on the train to quiz in far off provincial places. "It was British rail that did me in again, I tells ya!."
Anyway, enough about me, me, me. My considered, utterly quiz-biased verdict? By the end of the night you are guaranteed to be left amused, trivia-sated and rushing with cheap lovely sugar flowing through your body and brain.
And anyway, it's a quiz. That's a quiz. Q-U-I-Z. People you and I know should flock hither. Strangers too. You won't be disappointed (unlike certain Russell Brand lookalikes who sloped out of the door before the end - Boo hiss, loping, lanky Brandalike you! Bah, he was rubbish at the quiz anyway).
posted by That Quiz Guy at 10:45 AM
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