A devious comedic mind with real promise.

“Do you like to lie?”

This is Tilly Harrison’s opening gambit, lobbed playfully at the front row like a grenade. It’s repeated to various audience members, building live comedy from scratch. And here’s the trick: it works. The crowd have great stories and she lets them do the hard work. Smart.

Australian-born but now based in the UK, Harrison cuts a commanding presence onstage — tall, poised, and immediately in control. She jokes that she’s only 5ft 10, but in men’s terms, that’s a full six feet. It’s a sharp line that slides us into an hour of playful deception, surreal imagery, and tightly written gags covering polyamory, quicksand, and imaginary identical twins (yes, really).

The standout routine — and it hits home hard — is her fantasy of becoming a funeral comedian. Complete with props and peppered with callbacks, it’s inspired stuff, dark and oddly moving, especially when it comes to the imagined death of her 6ft 8″ father. It’s one of those bits you can imagine her still doing in five years, when she’s fully cooked.

She also tackles family dynamics head-on, particularly the awkward tension with her less-than-progressive grandmother after coming out. It’s intimate, unsentimental, and brutally funny.

What impresses most is Harrison’s stage presence. She stands bolt upright, angular, confident. No leaning. No nervous tics. No chuckling at her own punchlines — something more experienced comics (especially the blokes) could learn from. She’s got mic discipline, timing, and a delivery that suggests she’s been doing this far longer than she has.

That said, it’s not a perfect show. Some ideas feel like they haven’t quite found their final form, but what’s striking is just how close she is. This isn’t a Work in Progress — it’s more like a work on the brink of something exciting.

Harrison is good. Damn good. And that ain’t no lie.