‘I wanted to be clear about what the show is,’ explains Lily Phillips when addressing the title of her debut hour. But, as she admits herself, Smut is something of a misnomer: this isn’t so much a show about sex as it is about every kind of intimate biological process, with a particular focus on the scatological. The former dancer brings an innate physicality to her performance as she contorts herself for comic effect, notably in a graphic routine where she pretends to extract her Mooncup.

^{Pictures: Karla Gowlett}

Performing on a thrust stage, this is (obviously) a personal show and Phillips enjoys drawing the crowd in before occasionally ribbing them to good effect. Overall, it’s like spending quality time with a seriously oversharing friend. Sitting somewhat awkwardly among the personal tales, Phillips recounts a very well-known five-year-old story about a disastrous date. On firmer ground, there’s some standout material on how she and her boyfriend intimately groom their dog. And Phillips has full control of her punchlines despite numerous interruptions from audience members needing (appropriately enough) to visit the loo. Smut is a very promising debut from a smart comedian with charm to spare.

Reviewed at Pleasance Courtyard as part of Edinburgh Fringe.