Sue Perkins' latest stand-up special, "The Eternal Shame", sets out to unveil the former Bake Off star's public persona as a facade hiding a deeply humiliated person beneath. The promise of such introspection is tantalizing, given her years-long absence from live comedy. However, what Perkins delivers feels more like a series of charming anecdotes loosely connected to her 'shame', rather than an unflinching exploration of the very thing.
Perkins' show is strongest in its second half, where she delves deeper into themes of middle-age and vulnerability. The tone shifts as she shares more intimate stories, though even here, she's judicious in revealing too much truth. An anecdote about local drug dealers cloning her car registration serves as a prime example, veering far from the intended theme and instead showcasing Perkins' signature wit and flair for storytelling.
Throughout the special, Perkins masterfully weaves comedic yarns that, although entertaining, often prioritize pride over vulnerability. A tale of rescuing a wounded pup on a Bolivia trip, told in a way more befitting a proud hero than one wracked with shame, stands out as a prime example of this. Even the most striking narrative about her experience with a benign tumour and subsequent breakdown – a poignant, 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest' scenario vividly recounted here – feels tempered by an underlying self-preservation.
While Perkins' show is enjoyable enough, it ultimately falls short in its attempts to fully bare its titular shame. The protective layers of her public persona remain intact, shielding us from the raw emotion that could have been unleashed. In this, Perkins' 'Eternal Shame' feels more like a polished comedy set than a deeply personal exploration of vulnerability and self-abasement – leaving viewers craving something more meaningful beneath the surface.
Perkins' show is strongest in its second half, where she delves deeper into themes of middle-age and vulnerability. The tone shifts as she shares more intimate stories, though even here, she's judicious in revealing too much truth. An anecdote about local drug dealers cloning her car registration serves as a prime example, veering far from the intended theme and instead showcasing Perkins' signature wit and flair for storytelling.
Throughout the special, Perkins masterfully weaves comedic yarns that, although entertaining, often prioritize pride over vulnerability. A tale of rescuing a wounded pup on a Bolivia trip, told in a way more befitting a proud hero than one wracked with shame, stands out as a prime example of this. Even the most striking narrative about her experience with a benign tumour and subsequent breakdown – a poignant, 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest' scenario vividly recounted here – feels tempered by an underlying self-preservation.
While Perkins' show is enjoyable enough, it ultimately falls short in its attempts to fully bare its titular shame. The protective layers of her public persona remain intact, shielding us from the raw emotion that could have been unleashed. In this, Perkins' 'Eternal Shame' feels more like a polished comedy set than a deeply personal exploration of vulnerability and self-abasement – leaving viewers craving something more meaningful beneath the surface.