The low lights, a vodka cocktail and the black furniture seem to set this show up as a sophisticated trip into the seamy steamy side of stand-up. But no. Justine Smith, back from California and, she hastens to add, some genuine culture, comes across as a chatty, breezy broad (her favoured term for a female), with not a lot to say but a chirpy way of saying it.

Love and travel are announced as her themes, but before we get there a succession of one-liners and shrewdly skewed observations focus on aspects of growing older, as well as those all-time favourites, sex and alcohol. Sometimes the performance is augmented by images, especially when we get to California and romance. It seems recklessly close to becoming like the viewing of other people’s holiday snaps but is saved by the comedienne’s genuine rapport with the audience. 

Approaches are not limited to those in the front row, so the audience is well covered. Responses to Smith’s own easy conversational style are similarly relaxed, in contrast to the apprehensive mumbles often heard when someone in the audience wishes they had opted for a night at home. Quick on the repartee and kindly in all her exchanges, she achieves overall a sense of friendly, down-to-earth engagement. 

Behind the loosely structured material is a mellowing feminist perspective, enough to inform a wry observation or two about gender and language as well as a new interpretation of Fifty Shades of Grey. 

Abroad does not get far beyond the launching pad for me, with material on the thin side, even for a fifty minute show. As a definite plus, the performer leaves us in no doubt that she is a genuine Christchurch broad ,who understands her audience pretty well.  

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She’s back. With her trademark intolerance for silly, fluffy things (unless it’s a cat), Justine Smith launches her stand-up comeback, after a five-year absence from the Festival, to a happy, satisfied audience.   

From the moment she announces she’s puffed out from her 3 meter jog to the stage, it’s clear that Justine has arrived back in full throttle and ready to rip into some entertaining yarns. Even the regular checking of her notes and clock watching didn’t deter the crowd’s enthusiasm for Justine’s unique and brilliant style, which is somehow aggressive and lazy at the same time.

In terms of content, yes: she’s still unashamedly crass. Yet it’s refreshing to hear about front and back bits ‘Jussi-style’, which is a cocktail of frank, caustic wit and quirkiness. We are treated to an extraordinary tale, which draws to a climax at the top of one of the gnarliest rides in Disneyland.

She also recounts her experience of the caring nurses who speak in hushed tones, as they manipulate your mammaries during breast scans. The latter is quite brilliant and defies her initial thoughts that the public health system and comedy should not mix. 

Interestingly, even though Justine gives a faux apology to the men in the audience for so much of the content being about her breasts, butt and other bits, the loudest laughs often come from them. The more unashamedly honest Justine is, the louder the men laugh. 

Justine’s sporadic energy, as she tries in vain to tell a story in a straight line without those delicious tangents, is in top form. While she attempts to give her show form and structure, with the help of a series of photos, she’s still at her best when she’s free falling. I swear if there were a doctor or psychologist in the audience, they would diagnose Justine with Tourette syndrome, as her asides seem as involuntary as they are hilarious. Often no one seems more surprised than Justine at the quick-fire ad-libs she produces somewhere between a set up and a punch line. 

Justine also delivers great material about getting old. Even though her opening night audience is a mix of ages, with as many men as women enjoying her tales, I feel like her perfect target market: also in my 40s, I too struggle to remember my age and am intolerant of loud music in fashion shops that stock incorrectly sized garments. It’s fabulous to hear her voice in the comedy festival conversation once more.

Abroad also brings new content to Justine’s repertoire, as now there is love. Ahhh love. Lucky Dan (her fiancé).  Justine may be harsh and blunt at times – as the line of ladies in the front row discover – but she’s worth it.

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