list.co.uk/festival Reviews | FESTIVAL COMEDY

E N R O H T A L L U E V E T S

TOM ROSENTHAL A memorable, self-mocking return ●●●●●

Two years ago, Tom Rosenthal made an impressive Fringe debut with Child of Privilege. About halfway through that hour, he deliberately broke the show’s natural flow with a sequence which could best be described as ‘interior darts monologue’. For his return (the title translates as ‘thank you’ in Bulgarian and given that the Fringe office nearly broke the internet when trying to find the correct characters, we’ll leave it at that), he pulls off a similar trick with a bit that could cautiously be dubbed ‘gargoyle’. The self-deprecatory Rosenthal (given what he has to say about his own nose and voice, it’s a wonder he manages to get up in the morning), delivers a show about his mildly worrying adventures in Eastern Europe while filming ITV2 sitcom Plebs (again, he takes a swipe at himself for being on that channel). Like a young Mark Watson, he packs in

a very high degree of laughs per minute whether it’s about the perils of playing Football Manager or the later career of the person who came up with calzone. (Brian Donaldson) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 25 Aug, 8.15pm, £9–£12 (£8–£10.50).

CHRISTIAN O’CONNELL Thirteen turns out to be this DJ’s lucky number ●●●●● ANDREW LAWRENCE Nihilism made big, clever and funny ●●●●●

Debuts are always uncharted waters, so you’d be forgiven for approaching radio DJ Christian O’Connell’s show with trepidation. The format of This is 13 suggests a Dave Gorman-style romp through a self-imposed deadline, but the result frequently but happily wanders off at a tangent without compromising the flow. The Absolute Radio breakfast darling manages to be funny, endearing, slightly rude and entertaining: certainly not a multiple-watch-checking mistake. Highlights include a fast-paced ‘things to do by

the time I’m 40’ segment featuring a fight with Darth Vader. An over-enthusiastic audience and the spirit of Fringe entertainment carry this story through to its conclusion: a short movie outlining his successes and failures at completing his list.

There was a time when Andrew Lawrence could split a room. A special joy was to be had in watching a crowd’s reaction as his gags ventured into darker and darker territory; some shifted uncomfortably in their seats while others gleefully lapped it up. As Lawrence himself points out, if you’re offended then it’s your own fault: he’s ten years into his stand-up career, and there are plenty clips of him online you could have checked out before buying your ticket. It’s this off-hand, apparently ambivalent persona

that the comic has evolved into in There Is No Escape: all nihilism and misanthropy. And it makes for a delicious hour of comedy. For someone who purports not to be bothered, an admirable amount of work has gone into honing his jokes for maximum laughs.

Moments of genius, interspersed with unplanned Here, life is analogous to an unwanted and

psychic ability and equipment malfunction (if it wasn’t planned, it should be) were handled with aplomb and it’ll be interestng to see how he develops over the month. O’Connell’s show is middle-of-the-road humour, but with great potential for a follow-up. (Miriam Sturdee) Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 20 Aug, 8.40pm, £12.50–£13.50 (£11.50–£12.50). unasked-for puppy. He’s keen to remind us that he’s been nominated for most comedy awards but never won one, so there are obviously many better comedians. We beg to differ. Go see him, but whatever you do, just don’t ask him how he is . . . (Marissa Burgess) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 25 Aug, 8.50pm, £9.50–£13.50 (£8–£12).

BOBBY MAIR A talent that gets ragged around the edges ●●●●●

If anyone thinks that the comedy of Bobby Mair is going to bring people together in arm-locking community harmony, they don’t have a grip on their own mind. The Canadian-born, UK-based comic divides rooms and opinions with his brand of dark humour. He doesn’t see his comedy as especially bleak, and when put up beside the work of Jerry Sadowitz and Doug Stanhope (two comedians he’s been the support act for), Mair can sometimes seem about as dangerous as Adam Hills. Stanhope, though, is an instructive comparison, as he made his

first in-roads on British audiences upon the same stage at The Tron. But while the American got through his gigs with a skinful of liquor and hops, Mair rides it out by working on his nerves. At times, he seems to be having a great time, enjoying the awkward silences as much as he laps up the scattered laughter; at others, it looks like he might dash for the nearest emergency exit. A lukewarm crowd doesn’t help and it’s unclear how many would have filled out the form handed out at the beginning in which Mair offers himself up to perform at your home for friends and family. If you go a bundle on revenge fantasies from beyond the grave, stories about trying to surreptitiously masturbate in the same bed as a sleeping parent and various death / rape / enslavement routines, then stockpile those nachos now. There’s no doubt Mair has qualities that could see him propelled to the top of whatever comedy tree he fancies climbing. This Fringe might not be his breakthrough moment but you pray that he isn’t taken under the wing of anyone who might try to smooth off those rougher edges. Without them, Bobby Mair would just be another regular comedy joe. And that would be a genuine tragedy. (Brian Donaldson) Just the Tonic at The Tron, 556 5375, until 25 Aug (not 13), 7.40pm, £8.50–£10.

8–15 Aug 2013 THE LIST FESTIVAL 47