Performed by George Zacharopoulos

There’s no hole quite as deep or intimidating as that of love, relationships, and romance.

Yes – even that famous one to Wonderland. But we’ve got a damn good guide with lover of love George Zacharopoulos, the Kalamata-born, Manchester-residing via Newcastle comedian who has a love for all things amour. This Aphrodite of the Fringe steers us through his various past relationships in this Dickens collision with C.S. Lewis comedic romp, packed with plenty of twists, turns, and heaps of sharp comedic turns.

The title comes, though, from a specific encounter, primarily through meeting Alice, his girlfriend, and how their relationship felt starkly familiar to that trip down the rabbit hole into Wonderland. A solid hour of storytelling comedy stripped back of distracting lighting effects or audio intrusions, there’s an intimacy to Zacharopoulos’ set with only themselves, us, and the humour. His passion for the realm of love (yes even dating apps and first dates) is communicated in a lustre for the subject, riling himself up the more he talks about the emotional state and its effects and impacts.

In short: the comedy that Zacharopoulos offers up is impeccably structured and wonderfully performed. It’s funny, but often smarter than the audience initially realises, though they will by the final punchline. Rather than a scatter-gun of gags, Zacharopoulos does have a goal in mind here, often seamlessly blending the routines into one another with a terrific flow. It all eventually unfurls into an expertly storytelling-mannered delivery with deft control, amidst the laughs Zacharopoulos has been building to a more profound conclusion, one which is tremendously effective and penetrates a less dived into an area for comics – or at least comics of this strong a calibre. But one does wonder if Zacharopoulos needs this reliance on a few heavily cheap gags in an otherwise well-structured and thought-out stand-up. There’s only so much sexual humour, especially in reference to ex-partners, one can get away with in an otherwise well-structured and clever performance.

The overarching and building punchline, or rather an impact, of the show, becomes a little obvious as we hurtle towards the finale – but that isn’t a complaint in the slightest. If anything, Zacharopoulos’ set-up throughout and various callbacks and interactions is threaded so wonderfully, that the entire time he’s been setting up this final moment to remind us all of the real person we should love: ourselves. That this cathartic, and largely hilarious journey is one of self-love, and that we should all be brave, be true, and should all be a bit more like the Honey Badger. Maybe with a little less testicle ripping, but whatever makes you happy.