It’s the final day of the Fringe and we’re sat in Assembly Gardens. I’ve just helped the bar “tidy up” the last of its Zubrowka, and we’ve bumped into a journo pal who – bafflingly – has picked today as her first day at the Fringe. (In fairness, she did squeeze in four shows that afternoon.) We get lost in chatter before realising we’re suddenly running late for our penultimate show.

Cue a dash to the Roxy Boxy, where we join the queue just as it begins to shuffle inside. Our clown for the afternoon is Belfast debutant, Caroline McEvoy, who greets us with real cheer as we file in.

Her show circles around sibling rivalry – which is partly why me and my “middle child” chum are here – though there’s no real sting in the tale. McEvoy’s peace may have been shattered when her younger brother Jonathan arrived to wreak more family havoc than most (he is neurodiverse, after all), but beneath the ribbing it’s clear there’s only love.

In the main this is a ‘nice’ enjoyable show – it’s just that “nice” doesn’t usually mean hard-hitting. The biggest trauma? Losing her old bedroom to autistic Jonathan’s train collection after she’d already moved out. Not quite up there with Ania Magliano’s “I can’t believe you’ve done this”, is it?

Such is the gentle pace that when McEvoy switches gears (and lighting) for a political rant, it jars slightly. Her fury is heartfelt – Jonathan lost a lifelong career dream to the sort of bullshit red tape we can all empathise with – but it’s too specific to fully land.

Elsewhere, she riffs on her Disney princess obsession, complete with parodies that prove she can sing, and imagines what a Northern Irish princess might look like (spoiler: the royalty angle proves tricky).

There are also tales of moving to London and finding love, a six-year saga of family pressure and relationship realities, culminating in her first proper stint looking after Jonathan solo during his London visit. 

Though McEvoy briefly suggests that the thought of looking after Jonathan when she’s older hangs over her like a shadow, the show wraps up neatly – and there’s that word again. Nice. Charming. Sweet. An hour that’s easy to enjoy, peppered with sharp lines and strong vocals, but never quite building to the belly-laugh momentum we were hoping for.

A solid debut from a clown with real potential – she just needs to clear a few leaves off the line.

Clown Stars: * * *

@Assembly Rooms – Roxy Boxy, Edinburgh

Our Clown is performing at the Dublin Fringe in September – you can find further information on dates and tickets at fringefest.com