Words Johan Chang

There’s just something intrinsically relatable with Bridget Davies’ comedy, as much of it stems from personal anecdotes, observations, and musings on life. Predominantly centered on her dating life or the lack thereof, it’s a lot of the same things that have been used repeatedly by past comedians. That’s not to say it’s boring – it’s actually highly entertaining listening to her struggle with being young, single, and going from country to the city. The familiarity is reassuring, and often the shared experiences are why it elicit so many giggles or full blown belly laughs.

Of course, Davies has a penchant for a somewhat stream-of-consciousness splurge as she quickly moves from one joke to the next, reminiscent of a personal diary, as per the title of the show. You aren’t turned off to that format, however, as she does it with this languid, soft spoken, and methodical approach to self-deprecation you can appreciate, as she takes you down her rabbit hole of awkwardness.

There are bits that do get a little serious, and Davies tries to play them off as much as she can with jokes, though the level of unease can’t be ignored. Even as she tells a story you rather go ‘oh shit’ with that same languid, soft spoken voice, turning a tragedy into part of her performance set. I wondered for a second whether it was appropriate, but considering it’s the real life story of the comic herself, I guess it wasn’t my place to do much else besides applaud her bravery.

That said, Davies is a genuinely likeable storyteller. Especially when she shares what happens when she heads to a sex shop alongside family members. At the end of the day, there’s a lot to appreciate, though some of the delivery may need work, as it’s not always quite as smooth as the majority of her hour-long performance. But that’s okay, because the jokes about everything else will sooth the minor bumps on the road.