Review: Jo Caulfield: Pearls Before Swine
In Pearls Before Swine, Jo Caulfield eviscerates the boring and pretentious
Jo Caulfield | Image courtesy of The Stand
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Published 11 Aug 2024
You know just what you're going to get with a Jo Caulfield show. And if you don't, she offers pointers right off the top, advising that you'll search in vain for a theme or narrative arc. This is a tightly crafted, waspishly delivered set of disparate routines that casts a withering, misanthropic eye over humanity and prizes the gag above everything else. The Leith resident's gripes and seemingly insatiable desire for acrimony seldom play out as authentic transcripts of genuine encounters. However, in her despair with her Aberdonian husband especially, it feels as if there's a germ of emotional or cultural truth, with archetypal idiots to be scorned as a public service.
Eviscerating the boring and pretentious, the blinkered and condescending, Caulfield is reactionary against the faddish but retains her curiosity, even if her study of German porn is preoccupied with the home furnishings and appliances rather than the sex. Of all the characters in her tales, her husband alone approaches being three-dimensional, a source of tremendous frustration and contempt, yet simultaneously grudging affection, with the couple very much a team when greeted by a sniffy hotel receptionist. Occasionally, Caulfield will have a snipe at a recognisable individual and it's all the more delicious, a caustic aside about JK Rowling or Paddy McGuinness, with her put down of Sue Perkins for venturing back into the comic's lane harsh but seemingly heartfelt. Finding joy in irritability, Caulfield's an abrasively class act.