Bursting on stage in an extraterrestrial one-piece, an alien mask and a gold-sequined fringe jacket, Debra Tammer starts as she means to go on. With fierce wit and an authentic performance, she traces her immigration to America and the visa trouble that eventually threatens to send her home. Yet from Leeds to New York, youth to adulthood, Tammer is haunted by questions of identity and belonging. This tension brings some excellent one-liners in Extraordinary Alien, from describing her childhood as being ‘somewhere between a Greggs sausage roll and a guilt complex’ to her self-description of having ‘a Jewfro with the voice of a baritone rabbi’. 

The show touches on childhood insecurities, antisemitism, culture shock, motherhood and immigration. Arguably it’s almost too much ground for one hour. All these strands are promising but remain dangling and incomplete, unable to carry much emotional weight. The sprawling structure occasionally leaves Tammer sidetracked, even turning to her stage assistant for help finding her place in the script. The show’s abundance of ideas ultimately leaves its more affecting moments underdeveloped. But there is plenty to admire here. Tammer’s sharp delivery and vivacious stage presence make for an imperfect but entertaining hour.

Extraordinary Alien, Le Monde, until 30 August, 2.30pm.