Juliet Meyer: I am not Spartacus

There were so few people at Juliet Meyer's show we actually did names at the beginning, much in the vein of an inaugural University Society meeting. However, game bird that she is, she cracked on undaunted.

Observational and rather worthy, I am not Spartacus pokes fun at the small rebellions of the middle classes, ranging from Facebooked attendance at Tahrir Square protests, to sex education for eight-year olds. Petty snarking with your one-upping peers also gets a look in, as does Juliet’s UKIP voting Iraqi-Jewish father.

She demands a lot of audience participation, wanting to know what we’ve protested about and our opinions on issues from feminism to the Pope’s visit. However, with such a small audience, this was really pretty uncomfortable.

Meyer is lively and cheerful, and confident and lovely. The problem is that the material was neither very funny nor particularly thought provoking; it felt a bit like having a blether with your Guardian-reading pal, but having to pay for the pleasure.

The comedy equivalent of Marks and Sparks muesli: pleasant, good for you, but lacking in Edge. You’ll have a lovely afternoon watching her, but you’d probably rather meet her after someone else’s show and have a really good bitch.