Gina Yashere arrives in Soho a quarter of the way through a British tour and already the country's most famous former lift engineer is riding high.
Last night's audience wanted an encore, and tomorrow's, Friday's and Saturday's shows are sold out. That's because she's turned herself into a human spacehopper: she's round, she's bouncy and she's loads and loads of fun.
This is Yashere's first British tour in five years and, without an overarching theme, it basically feels like an extension of the shorter sets that she plies so successfully in clubs up and down the country.
Mercifully short 'n' sweet audience banter and day-to-day observations (you'll need to do your homework on Big Brother) combine with a rich mining of her strict upbringing (her parents are Nigerian) and familial relations. She also plunders racial stereotypes, endeavouring to keep her observations accessible. If you're unsure why black people in New Orleans would have been more scared if Hurricane Katrina had been called Hurricane Babymother, she'll explain it to you.
There are times when Yashere's comedy moves into sharper territory - she's gigged for forces in Iraq and laments her belief that black people on TV don't represent themselves, but rather every other black person in existence. It's at times like this that her detractors wish she'd push the boat out further. But who cares? She's a materialistic, infectiously funny North London girl. With gags this sparky, we'll let her off the hook.
Until Sat, Soho Theatre, 21 Dean Street W1, 9.30pm, £12.50 to £17.50, £10 to £12.50 concs (tomorrow, Fri and Sat returns only).
Gina Yashere
