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Charlotte Johnson’s dad may soon be the former Prime Minister but this show is not about him. The title of the show, and the fact that it’s produced by Nadine Dorries Productions may suggest that Boris is going to loom large, but outside of the story of when she met him aged 14 and realised he was her dad, he is largely absent from proceedings.
Instead the show is about her immense talent and fame as the singer of the Australian number 36 hit single ‘Daddy’s Girls.’ All Charlotte shares with her alleged dad is an immense sense of self-belief and entitlement as well as the inability to say ‘sorry’.
While this prevents the show from becoming yet another Johnson satire, in many ways it detracts from the strength of the character and the show that the performer Charlotte Evans has created.
Being in the Theatre section of the Fringe programme is also somewhat misleading as it falls more convincingly into character-based comedy. Evans is playing a classic rich spoiled brat with little concern for the feelings of others and no awareness of her own ridiculousness. She does this well, but drama and storylines are very much incidental to proceedings.
Everything revolves around her plans, from an opening scene when she cuts her introduction short and tells her technician of last minute changes to the show, through to the closing moments where she asks an audience member about his job and tells him he’ll have a pension that can bankroll her UK tour. The role of everyone she meets, works with or talks to, magnifies her genius and flatters her ego.
The audience play a large part, with several people screen-tested to read the introduction, another two called on stage to interview her for a podcast and two more becoming her backing dancers. The silliness of the premise and the insistence of Evans means that even if volunteers aren’t that willing at first, they soon get drawn into Charlotte’s world and embrace the tasks they are given.
It works well and is an entertaining hour, but don’t expect any satire or insight into what it’s like being one of Boris Johnson’s illegitimate children.
Pleasance Dome, to 29 August (not 15th)
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