The title suggests another of the living-doll shows in vogue on this year's Fringe, but Lala Scott's piece is far removed from that territory. Imagine Judy Garland as a Scouser on the dole, sharing a London flat with Doris Day, who's trying to score down the local club with Fred Astaire. It could be a disaster – Scott doesn't look or sound particularly like Garland, after all. However, she possesses both a keen sense of the ludicrous and the discipline and commitment not to overplay it; it comes as a shock after a while to realise that you have actually suspended your disbelief. This Judy may be a royal pain with her compulsion to keep breaking into song on the most tenuous cue, but she remains warmly human and oddly touching. We're definitely not in Kansas any more.
Written for The Independent.
Copyright © Ian Shuttleworth; all rights reserved.
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