Scout Boxall - Good Egg

Scout Boxall is clearly not one for half measures: walking into the venue for Good Egg, punters are greeted to a plethora of on-stage props and costumes - eagerly teasing at what may be to come. Any guesses are welcome, but they’re almost guaranteed to be incorrect.

The show treats Boxall’s crowd to an hour of non-sequitur sketch, random asides and impressions that have to be seen to be believed (a pink turtleneck sweater does some incredible heavy lifting in this regard). But beyond the facade of this high octane ridiculousness is a performer that clearly loves what they do. And they do it really, really well.

What shines brightest in Good Egg is Boxall’s pure sense of dedication and commitment to their craft. Every single moment of the performance is utilised to perfection and clearly thought out in terms of timing and comedic flow. Far too often a sketch show can fall apart purely based on the chronology of the sketches, but it is gleefully apparent that Boxall and their collaborators have gone to great lengths to ensure each beat is perfectly poised for their audience. Even the split seconds between gags are seized upon, with the comic quickly glancing at their audience or pulling a blink-and-you-miss-it expression that tops off the piece beautifully. 

It’s a masterclass in silliness that reinstates the joy of a completely “pointless” show - one without a third act revelation that divulges the personal hardships of the performer.

Make no mistake, though, Good Egg is incredibly clever and filled with satirical genius. From the phenomenally pointed takedowns of the Catholic Church via the lens of Sisterly jazzercise, to the sensational Eurovision parody that exposes the brutalist regime of the former Soviet Union. It is beyond question that Boxall is one of the most intelligent absurdists going around.