Perhaps the NHS should open a venue of its own during the Fringe, because stand-up-as-therapy has become a repeat prescription in some corners of the comedy programme.
But sometimes the obvious is slightly subverted. Eleanor Morton tells us that performing in front of a chortling crowd is her GP's suggestion for building confidence to deal with chronic anxiety. This creates a tension in the room, especially when she ends one section of the show but seems rather unsure what comes next, before stroking the invisible alcoholic rabbit that sits on the top of her head. And yet this very hesitation, coupled with that sprinkling of whimsically surreal imagination, is what pulls the audience onside. Anxiety is the heart of her personality and the lifeblood of her comedy. There's not quite enough funny material in the more confessional moments that deal with the state of her mental health, but each song interlude is a genuine highlight.
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