Laurie Kilmartin, a Peabody award-winning comedy writer known for penning jokes for Jimmy Kimmel, Conan O'Brien, and the Academy Awards, made her London debut at the Soho theatre with a fierce and filthy stand-up hour. The show, running until 28 July, showcases her unapologetic vulgarity, flitting between penis jokes, free-bleeding chaos, and a taste for vengeance.
A Career Behind the Scenes
Kilmartin has spent much of her career as a staff writer for late-night hosts like Jimmy Kimmel and Conan O'Brien, as well as writing for the Oscars ceremonies in the last two years. Her own voice, revealed in this hour, is crude, acute, and pretty mean, delivered with a furrowed-brow intensity and a flash of a wide, are-you-gonna-take-it smile.
Jumping through decades, the US comedian touches on school bullies, the need for better assassins, and the limited dating pool of men over 50. Some tales have a pitch-black quality, notably her story of an abusive swim coach, which carries a particular knife-edge. Other anecdotes feel drier, like they've just had the dust blown off them; she spends too long on lockdowns, a topic many audiences have moved past. Even a moment on conservative commentator Charlie Kirk feels like it missed the moment, though other US political commentary lands as easy winners.
Strengths and Weaknesses
Kilmartin is most confident in the swing of finely tuned bits, delivered with blazing bullishness. However, the show's loose and fragmented structure causes her to flounder for a few seconds each time she transitions between often-unrelated set pieces. She is less commanding during audience participation, with one callback to a story of language failure in Japan provided by an audience member instead of the comedian.
It is clear from the haphazard reference checks and mid-story math conversions that she is not used to UK crowds. At times, this gives the show a work-in-progress feel. There is an oddly distracting focus on the difference between her (American, single mum) and her audience (tonight: neither of those), which might be forgiven if she did not keep mentioning it.
Standoffish Charm
Over the course of the hour, Kilmartin's performance tone is somewhat standoffish, and she repeatedly dismisses the audience as light clappers. However, the more she leans into this, the funnier the audience finds it. Matching the clean brutality of her best anecdotes, severity suits her. The show runs at the Soho theatre in London until 28 July.
