FESTIVAL COMEDY | Reviews
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WILL ADAMSDALE: BORDERS Charming those who want a coherent theme ●●●●●
The Fringe programme is littered with self-indulgent, whiney, middle-class, white-boy comedians explaining, self-deprecatingly, their ineptitude. Will Adamsdale happily cops to this label and on the surface he offers a similar product: a shambling, apologetic hour in which he mocks his own shortcomings. It takes skill to pull off something that purports to be shambolic and haphazard. Luckily for Adamsdale, he has plenty.
After winning the Perrier in 2004, he largely disappeared from the comedy spotlight. His activities during the interim provide fodder for this show, with his acting work informing both the content and shape of the story. Rather than a series of loosely connected anecdotes, what emerges is a tightly constructed and scripted narrative with clear theatrical inspiration.
The token theme is borders, which is so expansive a topic as to be almost meaningless, and Adamsdale works inside and outside the lines to produce witty and original musings on this topic. In lesser hands it could have been extremely dull, but his excellent judgement keeps the laugh rate high, the script on point and the humour often deriving from the most unexpected places. Due to the narrative demand for Adamsdale to suffer an existential crisis of some sort, he takes a more whimsical direction as the show progresses, much of it informed by a well- known television bank ad.
A thematically cohesive, cleverly scripted and all-round charming comedic concoction seems like a reasonable expectation for a Fringe show. Working hard to pull it off with apparent ease, Will Adamsdale throws down the gauntlet to all those other self-deprecating narrativists. This is how it’s done; anything less is cheating the audience. (Suzanne Black) ■ Underbelly, Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 24 Aug, 6pm, £11–£12.50 (£10–£11.50).
AUSTENTATIOUS A cannily entertaining period improv ●●●●●
THE COLOUR HAM Magic act played mainly for laughs ●●●●● FRANK SKINNER Safe shocks from a well-dressed man ●●●●●
Plenty of improv, particularly long-form like this, easily becomes meandering and flabby if you take it on a journey where literally anything can happen. But they're a canny lot Austentatious: not only does performing improv in the style of Jane Austen give you an instant audience of her fans, it also provides you with a very handy structure. Thanks to the 19th- century novel form, its prose style and those pretty costumes, they're already part way there. That said, much of the success of improv is due
to the skill of the performers and how well they work together as a team. The players here bounce off each other; and even when they don’t, a fluffed or hesitant line is amusing anyway.
Taking the title of the piece from audience suggestion, the team work the potentially dull ‘50 Shades of Jane’ suggestion into a highly enjoyable narrative, even working in a Morrissey guest appearance. Plus there are several laughs to be derived by simply slipping from 19th-century dialogue to speech more likely to be heard in the 21st. As the hero of the hour, Soupy Baxter of the soup empire, notes of his beau Henrietta standing too close to him: ‘you've entered the dangerzone’. (Marissa Burgess) ■ Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 25 Aug, 1.40pm, £9–£11 (£8–£10).
48 THE LIST FESTIVAL 14-25 Aug 2014
With any comedy show where three people are vying for stage time, there’s a real need for the audience to be able to distinguish between the various personae. The Colour Ham have certainly got this aspect nailed. So, Colin McLeod is the semi-serious mentalist constantly let down by his cohorts’ failings; Kevin McMahon is the sensitive magician who gets most of the sympathy; and Gavin Oattes is the trio’s clown, forever getting things back-to-front, and either looking for the audience’s support or threatening it from afar.
The magic-based feats they conjure up are decent enough, but the hour’s pleasure comes mainly from the mucking about. It’s little wonder that McLeod is off doing his own solo show, given that his impressive work is largely sidelined for silliness. When you think of the séance sequence, it’ll be Oattes’ whale impersonation and McMahon trying to blend into the background dressed in a black bodysuit that you’ll remember rather than any jaw-dropping mentalism. And any fans of Ghost out there will be delighted to learn that it’s surely the most referenced film from 1990 among this year’s Fringe comedy acts. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Just the Tonic at The Caves, 556 5375, until 23 Aug, 7.40pm, £8–£11.
Man in a Suit, the title of Frank Skinner’s show, reveals Ronseal-like levels of hidden meaning. He’s a man. He usually wears a suit. This minimal effort and come-as-you-are philosophy informs his entire set. OK, there’s a short bit about selling his old suits on eBay but it doesn’t go anywhere or justify the title. This is the pattern with a lot of his material. He
jumps around from topic to topic, his laid-back, self- assured delivery implying that something worthwhile is going on but the material stays uninspired, covering arguments with his girlfriend, Rolf Harris, alcoholism, Cliff Richard (!) and a dash of sexual vulgarity designed to provide a safe shock for the predominantly middle-aged crowd.
A heckler is at first tackled forcefully, with Skinner making sure to gain the last laugh. As the heckler persists, it clearly throws Skinner off his game-plan and with each subsequent encounter the comedian comes off a little worse. Where the 90-minute set should amp up into something resembling a crescendo, it merely tails off. Frank Skinner’s lazy lope around current talking points is not bad, but it could all have been so much more. (Suzanne Black) ■ Assembly George Square, 226 0000, until 24 Aug, 8.45pm, £17.50.