‘I’ve got a gun.” Nice to be pitched, with that opening line, straight into a show declaring itself different from the others. Zainab Johnson’s maiden fringe set – although she’s already a big noise in the US – gives an account of how she came to own a firearm. It’s not an explicitly political show – if a show about gun ownership by a black, Muslim, American female is allowed to be anything but. But Toxically Optimistic does invite engagement with some searching questions about guns, their use, and the safety they supposedly ensure – even if, so poised is Johnson’s delivery, you barely notice it doing so.
Hers is that particularly American style of standup that can feel too polished for UK tastes: smiling, slick and a little bit frictionless. If a British comedian tells a dating story, you can bet they’ll be the butt of the joke; when Johnson does, it’s to lord it over the short guy who wants but can’t have her. Small wonder she is, by her own account, an eternal optimist – even if that quality is now to be tested when a friend tells her, apropos of her buying her own house, that she should acquire a gun without delay.
Is that so? Johnson resists, and keeps resisting, even when her friend drags her to a shooting range, even when she imagines the home invasion scenario that might make a gun worthwhile. She asks herself questions about fear, with reference to an odd anecdote about a homeless man and a “bucket of shit”, and about safety, which has arguably been secured, but at what cost?
Delivered with authority by the Harlem comic, the tone is smooth and philosophical, with the safety catch coming off only occasionally – see the excellent joke explaining why she takes notes when out on a first date. The show’s final quarter pivots to a different subject entirely – and a less compelling one, too, notwithstanding that Johnson justifies it persuasively with a take-that reveal at the end. If you didn’t know she was armed and dangerous before, that fine flourish of an ending proves it.