Bridget Christie has previously performed in Edinburgh dressed as Charles II and as a donkey. This year she has dispensed with costumes and opted for a “this is me” approach, coming out as a passionate, playful feminist. The result is a sincere but never sanctimonious show about her anger at everyday sexism that is both sublimely deft and winningly daft.
A Bic for Her was inspired by news of the biro company producing lady-friendly pens. Christie was furious. Had the Bronte sisters been bad novelists because their quills kept slipping through their fingers? A clownish mime of a woman struggling to write adds physical comedy to the verbal flourishes. A subtitle could have been Feminism Can Be Fun.
Christie does extravagant outrage particularly well, huffing and puffing at prejudice. In one story she hints at the karma of veteran racing driver Stirling Moss falling down a lift shaft after suggesting women were not cut out for high-speed motoring. She pushes facts through an absurdist mincer, extracting every possible giggle.
Christie is a distinctive voice. She has clearly worked hard on her monologue’s structure. If a discussion about Malala Yousafzai, the schoolgirl shot by the Taliban, initially feels earnest, stick around. Even here there is a priceless punchline.
This is not for everyone. John Inverdale might fail to see the funny side of the tennis ball-based punishment she would like served up to him for his remarks about Marion Bartoli at Wimbledon. But apart from sports commentators, ex-racing drivers and pen manufacturers everybody else should love this show about biros underlined by comic brio.