Jemyma once tried her hand at stand up, but Brian Logan watched her debut at the Soho Theatre and called her a “fat corporate frizzy-haired fascist Tory bitch whore who has probably never even heard of Berthold Brecht.”
After five years in a deep depression eating nothing but oven chips, Jemyma decided to become a reviewer-reviewer.
Sadly she had by this time gone completely blind, which is a little-known side effect of eating nothing but oven chips, but luckily this is no handicap in the field of reviewer-reviewing. Or, indeed, reviewing.
The rest of the staff supply her with braille copies of reviews, or sometimes they just drag in the reviewers themselves: Jemyma claims to be able to know a reviewer’s character simply by reading the acne on his or her face.
Jemyma moves in mysterious ways. Some reviewers have reported getting home to find Jemyma’s chilling calling card: a frozen oven chip on their doorstep. This is a sure sign that Jemyma is reviewing them.