list.co.uk/festival Reviews | FESTIVAL COMEDY
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ADRIENNE TRUSCOTT’S A ONE- TRICK PONY A disappointingly incoherent hour with false starts and worthy targets ●●●●●
As the self-declared pre-eminent ‘gimmicky no- pants rape lady’, Adrienne Truscott is still taking down rape jokes and rape culture, as well as gleefully making men in the front row uncomfortable with her lack of underwear. But for all she’s playing up to her role as stand-up ingénue (most of her experience is as a dancer and cabaret artist), she really does seem genuinely nervous around the stand-up bit of the act (the nudity, not so much). Praised for being excitingly confrontational in her 2013 solo debut, Asking for It, here she is hesitant, seeking reassurance that the audience has got the references. The first half is lost to a couple of momentum-killing false starts, but the second is stronger and the finale uproarious, though largely wordless. It all makes for an incoherent whole.
Her targets, including Donald Trump and 'ironic Jerrod gives off the air of someone who is pretty
racism', are worthy of skewering, but what they get is more of a prodding. It’s not that this show doesn’t have substance, or that it isn’t at times very funny, but more that the substance and the funny don’t meet up as often as they should. (Laura Ennor) ■ Gilded Balloon, 622 6552, until 17 Aug, 8.15pm, £12 (£10). contented with his lot, even while he’s having a grouch at middle-class woes. As likeable a comic as you’ll encounter this month, even the person whose name he kept forgetting will bear Phil Jerrod no ill will. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug (not 17), 7pm, £7.50–£10 (£6.50–£9).
PHIL JERROD: NEANDERTHAL A likeable, enjoyable romp through the notion of ambition ●●●●● TATTERDEMALION A meandering, gentle stroll through a mime’s soft musings ●●●●●
Rural life isn’t as dull or bad (or rammed with racists) as some city people make out. So claims Phil Jerrod in his Neanderthal show which has arrived in Edinburgh on the back of plenty acclaim already. His open manner, occasionally theatrical delivery and thoughtful material suggests a massive talent of the future and this hour is a very fine starting point. As you might hear on one of those bombastic cinema trailers, Tatterdemalion comes from the people who brought you Boris & Sergey. That said, bombastic is perhaps the last word you’d use to describe this mild mime affair in which Henry Maynard unleashes (well, no, not exactly) the contents of Prof Walrus’ Forbidden Trunk of Arcane Mystery.
Ostensibly a show about whether you should Loaded up on audience participation throughout
really bother to harbour high-end ambition or just settle for the lower rungs on everything, Jerrod couches some of his evidence in his own fabulous facial fuzz. Considering its cultivation and maintenance as one of his few personal victories, even that tiny triumph has been stolen from him given that such beardage is two a penny in communities across the land, irrespective of concentrated hipster numbers in an area.
(starting when he punches tickets at the door before charmingly shoving one of his reviewers into the venue), the show’s highlight is an underground train scene with a packed stage of willing crowd- members. There’s a real community-bonding feel to proceedings, though a poignant funeral scene is too much for some to stomach as they flee for the exit. Tatterdemalion is more of a gentle back-rub rather
than the full-on body assaults perpetrated by other acts in this broad field, such as Doctor Brown and Red Bastard. While Tatterdemalion lacks the clenching peril of any encounter with those two clowns, its timid nature also means that a true spark is missing and few magical memories from this hour will linger in the mind too long. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Assembly Roxy, 623 3030, until 31 Aug (not 19), 5.45pm, £10–£12.
KYLE KINANE: GHOST PIZZA PARTY A tough and occasionally stomach-churning show eventually reaps full rewards ●●●●●
There may be a story connected to his Fringe debut show title but acclaimed US comic Kyle Kinane opted not to reveal anything about it on this particular night. Perhaps he should replace it with Spiders vs Crabs or One Netflix Documentary Away from Vegetarianism as they adequately cover two of the most memorable and successful segments in an enjoyably conflicted hour.
You know there’s something special about a comedian when they have a crowd laughing along to their airing of opinions or high-fiving of scenarios that are so obviously wrong. The bulk of Kinane’s early section concerns an ironic intention to get his dirty secrets laid out for the public at this point of his career so there’s nothing to be dug up when he becomes hugely famous. So, what has Kinane done so far that he wouldn’t want some social media investigator to discover? Without giving too much away, they involve sex, dogs and gritter salt. Happily, these were all separate incidents, but each is funny enough to remove attention away from the thundering noise bleeding in from a busy bar through the wall (someone at Underbelly needs to plug whatever hole has emerged in a venue that hasn’t experienced such pollution problems before). As he scrambles towards his not-for-everyone seafish / creepy
crawly-based finale, Kinane takes a pop at the people who insist they suffer depression (one of the contentious segments right there, folks), while becoming the poster boy for processed foods (ditto). After all this grime, he delivers a humble message at the luck he feels in doing stand-up for a living. Turns out his audiences are the real winners in that game. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Underbelly Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 30 Aug (not 18), 10.10pm, £10–£12 (£9–£11).
13–20 Aug 2015 THE LIST FESTIVAL 49