Sarah Kendall: Shaken

"Truth" can be an awkward word on comedy stages for anecdotal, confessional acts. It’s a standup truism that prefacing a routine with, “this is a true story” usually means that it isn’t, and even the most authentic performers invariably embellish their anecdotes, just a bit, to add a little extra juice. So keeping the audience’s trust intact is a tricky balancing act: which makes Sarah Kendall’s new show all the more impressive.

Having won an increasingly hefty audience with her previous hours of adolescent angst, Kendall returns with a show that should—according to the title and blurb—be about an earthquake that struck her native Newcastle, Australia in 1989. In fact, it’s really about lies, in particular one mighty whopper she dropped as a schoolgirl that gathered momentum like a wayward rock hurtling down a sceptical mountain. Teachers, parents, tough cops, psychologists and the media all get involved, while another massive fib complicates matters further.

It’s a hell of a tale, beautifully delivered by a masterful storyteller – and, yes, there is also an earthquake, which sounds the least believable bit but turns out to be horribly true. As for everything else, well, it’s up to your own interpretation. “That’s the gist of what happened,” Kendall tells her therapist, who may or may not exist either.

Shaken raises intriguing questions about truth in comedy, and in life, and whether that actually matters. And it works as a straightforward standup hour, too. Maybe Kendall is just a girl, standing in front a lecture hall, trying to make us believe her.