Last year, Rose Matafeo cast herself as the perfect Sassy Best Friend. Now she explains why she’s never been quite right for romantic lead. Horndog is a history of the New Zealand comic’s brushes with love and sex – and, having kissed nine people in her life (she’s 26), that easily fits into a fringe hour. And what an hour it is: another storming set from a woman whose neuroses, intelligence and flamboyant sense of her own ridiculousness make her a near-perfect comedian.
There are fewer frills or set-pieces than in Matafeo’s previous work. Horndog is just a volcanic eruption of standup, occasionally embellished by loud blasts of audiovisual. We are told she has recently experienced a breakup, which isn’t the show’s theme but its context. Why, Matafeo wants to know, is she so obsessive about relationships? Wherefore her peculiar definition of horniness: “Girls putting 100% into something that’s not worth it”?
That is very specific – and the sense she’s divulging something real – and dysfunctional – about her emotional life illuminates the show. She talks about how easily impressed she is by men (“I’d probably fuck the patriarchy if he had nice arms”), how distracted she gets when masturbating, how she treats kisses like others treat wine-tasting in restaurants. (No one gets sent back.)
Her monologue can feel like a babble – but when required to catch a sudden spotlight (honing her reaction for when a lover cheats on her), she is always on her marks. Throughout, the anxiety occupies that sweet spot where lovable meets laughable, no less so in the closing quarter, as Matafeo’s mental state becomes increasingly brittle. It’s another effervescent comedy from this star in the making.
At Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh until 26 August.
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