list.co.uk/festival (Paul Whitelaw) Assembly George Square, 623 3030, until 25 Aug (not 18), 6.30pm, £13–£14. Philharmonic of Wit ●●●●● There is more whimsy than wit in this uneven show from Poland’s leading (only?) symphonic comedy troupe. While you can’t deny the exceptional talent of the 19-piece orchestra, their hokey comedy shtick leaves a lot to be desired. It’s a pity, as their fluid marriage of classical, pop and traditional European music is occasionally quite infectious. But everything else about the show is curiously stilted. (Paul Whitelaw) EICC, 0844 847 1639, until 24 Aug (not 21), 6.30pm, £12–£14 (£10–£12); family ticket £30–£36. Phil Wang ●●●●● The 24-year- old gets almost half his material from playing around with Chinese stereotypes while his laid-back geekery and quiet confidence carry the set, at times through some fairly ropey puns, cringey gags and indulgent rambles, but his calmly dropped observations yield more laughs: the way food is marketed to women for example, young British people’s obsession with owning something that says ‘Keep Calm’, or the current trend for the ‘gritty reboot’ in cinemas. (Claire Sawers) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 24 Aug, 5.50pm, £8.50–£10 (£7–£9). Quint Fontana ●●●●● Quint Fontana is a washed up 80s pop star who wants to take you on a trip down memory lane. The scene is set with an audio collage of radio reports charting his rise to stardom and his inevitable fall from grace and descent into drugs and alcoholism before the man himself leaps onto the stage. Fontana is every inch the pastiche but what this lacks in originality, it makes up for in energy. (Gordon Eldrett) Voodoo Rooms, 226 0000, until 24 Aug (not 18), 9.50pm, free. Rhys James ●●●●● The 23-year-old has heard himself described as one of the ‘haircut comedians’, presumably a new genre where puppyish, pretty, young, but underwhelming, still undercooked stand-ups get chucked in, and doused in faint praise. But for all this dissection of the progress of his comedy career, he seems to have overlooked the comedy bit. (Claire Sawers) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 24 Aug, 4.45pm, £8–£10.50 (£7–£9.50). Rhys Mathewson ●●●●● It can’t be easy performing to three charity workers, your own dad, a reviewer and a dog. That might sound like the set-up to a decidedly poor joke, but that was the stark reality of this evening. The young, UK-based Kiwi comic is a charmingly likeable guy and with some stiffer writing will pull off a good Fringe show yet. And if he can be as comfortable in front of hundreds as he was to half a dozen (pooch included), he’ll go far. (Brian Donaldson) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 25 Aug, 8.30pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8.50–£9.50). Russell Hicks ●●●●● There is no denying Hicks has a keen talent for on-the-spot wit –it’s no mean feat to keep a late-night audience engaged for 45 minutes of improvised comedy. The rough premise for the night was his characterisation of the audience members into a medley of cliques, American high school-style, during which he demonstrated a measured charm offensive. The show did not always work, leading to the eventual air of tiring repetition: dwarf jokes and comments about the riot upstairs started to wear thin. (Maud Sampson) Just the Tonic at The Tron, 556 5375, until 24 Aug, 11.40pm, free. Sam Avery ●●●●● At the age of 15, Avery and three pals formed a band. After mulling over some frankly ridiculous ideas they finally called themselves dHb and unlike so many teenage metal outfits they got signed. This is an autobiographical account of teenage dreams and getting one brief glimpse behind the velvet curtain. An absorbing, very funny, true story offering an insight

Reviews at a Glance | FESTIVAL COMEDY

Sheeps

into a hidden world. (Henry Northmore) Just the Tonic at The Caves, 556 5375, until 24 Aug, 5.20pm, £6–£8. Sarah Campbell ●●●●● Campbell’s worries are far better developed than your average set of neuroses, and they range from the quotidian to the existential. Though she goes on a bit too long about ‘struggling with basic things’, such as not being mistaken for a small boy when purchasing alcohol, she actually recalls Victoria Wood in appearance and intense, rhetorical question-packed manner. With a fine writing pedigree that includes some well-known topical TV and radio shows, it’s clear that Campbell can find the funny in most things. (Laura Ennor) Cabaret Voltaire, 226 0000, until 23 Aug, 5.05pm, free. Scott Capurro ●●●●● Entertainingly catty as ever, the Frisco comic is proud to boast a new husband, but you wouldn’t know it given the amount of undermining that is uttered here. Of course, Capurro has long been acknowledged as someone who will have a go at everything and everyone (especially himself) and he takes umbrage at the religions of the world with Islam getting a proper roasting. (Brian Donaldson) Assembly Rooms, 0844 693 3008, until 24 Aug, 10pm, £10 (£9). Sean McLoughlin ●●●●● You could argue pretty compellingly that neurosis can be grist to the mill for stand-up, and McLoughlin fuses the former with the latter in a self-deprecating and accessible set. Although regularly worrying about how he’s coming across, the flipside of a neurotic mind is a meticulous eye for detail, and there’s no need to fret when he delivers some corkers of punchlines to smartly constructed gags. (Emma Newlands) Laughing Horse @ Espionage, 477 7007, until 24 Aug, 5pm, free. Sean Nolan ●●●●● This is possibly the most low-key show at the Fringe. After announcing himself onto the stage minus any run-in music, Nolan proceeds to read his one-liners from a notepad pausing occasionally to laugh self-consciously or shake his head at the riskier gags. The tempo doesn’t change across the hour, which makes it all the more impressive that he keeps the audience’s attention throughout. (Marissa Burgess) Just the Tonic at The Caves, 556 5375, until 24 Aug, 8pm, £8–£9 (£6–£7). Sheeps ●●●●● Watch too much sketch comedy and it can start to feel like a tired format. Until, that is, you watch a group that does something so original and so thoroughly hilarious that your faith is once more restored. Sheeps are that group. Like all the best sketch comedians, they make the most of the very different anatomies at their disposal, and concoct a heady mixture of the silly and the cerebral that has pockets of eccentric laughter breaking out. (Laura Ennor) Bedlam Theatre, 629 0430, until 24 Aug, 9.15pm, £10.50 (£9). Sol Bernstein ●●●●● Wearing a trilby and suit so sharp you could make lemonade with it, 86-year-old Bernstein dodders to the stage. The Jewish old- timer revels in his non-PC material, but he’s an equal opportunities stand-up taking the piss out of everyone in equal measure. He’s bursting with stories of showbiz past, of his 45-minute triangle solo when playing with Charlie Parker, his heckle that inspired Marcel Marceau to shut up and his work with Hitler on the cabaret circuit during the 1930s before he went off the rails. (Marissa Burgess) Just the Tonic at The Tron, 556 5375, until 24 Aug, 9pm, £7–£9 (£6–£8.50). Steen Raskopoulos ●●●●● An offbeat character comic with an improv background, his show unfolds as a series of blackout sketches loosely connected by two developing threads. The charmingly odd tone is pitched somewhere between Limmy’s Show! and the sillier side of Chris Morris’ Blue Jam, although Raskopoulos has a distinctive voice of his own. This physical and imaginative show is a risky flight of dexterous fancy. (Paul Whitelaw) Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 25 Aug, 8.10pm, £10–£11.50 (£9–£10.50).

The Five Worst Things I Ever Did ●●●●● A title like that is simply inviting a particular response from a reviewer seeking to put the boot in. Thankfully, Al Donegan has the technical skills (he’s a classically trained actor) and stories to burn that most comics would die for. None of the tales reflect especially well on him and by the end we’re not sure whether to jeer or cheer. (Brian Donaldson) Just the Tonic at The Caves, 556 5375, until 24 Aug, 4pm, £6–£8. Tobias Persson ●●●●● Persson has worked the stand-up circuit in his native Sweden for many years and this marks his fifth year doing comedy in English. He rattles through a sharp, fast-paced homage to Swedish stereotypes riffing on Nordic noir, Scandinavian porn and the Swedish social model. However the main thrust of his Fringe show is IVF which Persson and his wife used to conceive. His easy-going approachable style makes for an upbeat life-affirming show. (Henry Northmore) The Stand V, 558 7272, until 24 Aug, 10.30pm, £8 (£7). Tom Allen ●●●●● Allen has built a persona for himself over the years: he’s camp and catty, smooth one minute and scathing the next as he delivers personal tales with a knowingly arched eyebrow and a deliberately cocked hip. There’s some good stuff buried in the first three quarters, about the tortures of primary school gym class, his penchant for Victorian attire and a brilliantly observed bit about a foot stool, but it is not enough to enliven a mediocre 45 minutes. (Suzanne Black) The Stand V, 558 7272, until 24 Aug, 4.15pm, £8 (£7). Tom Rhodes ●●●●● The American veteran’s best attribute is a series of excellent gags but all too often he loses his way and goes down an avenue where a story either ends abruptly or has no discernible punchline to ease his passage onto the next anecdote. But Rhodes has confidence to burn, and he often has to punch his way through a wall of audience inertia. (Brian Donaldson) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 25 Aug (not 21), 9.15pm, £10–£12 (£9–£10). Tom Toal ●●●●● Ever since Daniel Kitson first shambled into view, the comedy circuit has become increasingly full of sensitive young men combining conventional stand-up with soul- searching ruminations on the nature of existence. Happily, Tom Toal gets the balance just about right in this sweetly personal storytelling show. Despite a faltering start, the affable comic eventually won the crowd over with his endearing, self-deprecating charm and the cockle-warming heft of his story. (Paul Whitelaw) Cabaret Voltaire, 226 0000, until 23 Aug, 2.35pm, free. Will Mars ●●●●● Mars is pretty open about his opinions, and they’re opinions he’s aware will make him unpopular. In fact, he makes a feature of being a dickhead (his word, not ours). Having awkwardly and somewhat pleadingly acknowledged the presence of a reviewer at his show, he’s probably got a fair idea what’s coming. This reviewer doesn’t agree with your opinions on recycling or the objectification of women, but that’s not the reason she didn’t like your show. There’s a point when misanthropic patter becomes moaning, and you passed it. (Laura Ennor) Just the Tonic at The Tron, 556 5375, until 24 Aug, 7.40pm, £5 –£7. Yacine Belho usse ●●●●● There can’t be many comedy shows that feature jokes about conjugating verbs, but for French comedian Belhousse, one of the main obstacles to putting on an Edinburgh show was first learning English. Belhousse’s style is surreal and pretty random anyway so his material lends itself to someone whose language skills aren’t perfect. Belhousse is an incredibly likeable presence, which is half the battle and this is a promising debut. (Marissa Burgess) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 25 Aug (not 17), 9.30pm, £8–£10.50 (£7–£9.50). 14–25 Aug 2014 THE LIST FESTIVAL 59