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FESTIVAL COMEDY | Reviews
LAUREN PATTISON: LADY MUCK Coming-of-age tale with razor wit and brutal honesty ●●●●●
Opening the door herself with a bright ‘hello’, Lauren Pattison’s entrance to her outstanding debut Fringe show sets the tone for an hour of chummy chat from a comedian with no pretensions. At its essence, Lady Muck is a break-up show, tracking the past 20 months since she moved to London and found herself single, starting with her job in Boots and ending two weeks before she arrived in Edinburgh. But it’s so more much more than that: a coming-of-age story about the long journey to being comfortable in your own skin. Life post-heartache is a fairly common topic in comedy but
rarely will you see it tackled with such genuine vulnerability and openness: at one point there are tears in her eyes (or they might be the tears in my eyes). Throughout the pathos there’s a constant wicked sense of humour from a Geordie lass that likes a drink and suffers the often hilarious consequences. There’s a wealth of relatable content: hungover vomiting in
supermarkets, Facebook envy, making getaways in Ubers, and beating yourself up unnecessarily over an ex, as well as insight into being a female comic. Her stories so often lead you one direction before she sweeps the rug away, subverting the clichés with razor- sharp wit and brutal honesty, be the topic sex, drugs or meal deals. Previously, jokes about her nephew have been met with mixed reactions but Pattison argues we’re living in a cotton-wool society and that we shouldn’t be taking offence on behalf of the person a joke is directed at. Aged 23, a youthful face means people often assume she’s the
sister or girlfriend of a comedian. Assume at your peril, as she herself proclaims, as with this hilarious and empowering debut hour, Lauren Pattison is going places. (Rowena McIntosh) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, until 28 Aug (not 14), 5.45pm, £7.50–£10 (£7–£9.50).
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JORDAN BROOKES: BODY OF WORK Unpredictable battle against the elements ●●●●● JOHN PENDAL: HOW TO ESCAPE FROM STUFF How to break free from a cuffed past ●●●●●
SIBLINGS Fine character comedy with hilarious highs and elongated lows ●●●●●
Jordan Brookes falteringly takes to the stage and efficiently sets the tone: he’s a rakish, belligerent performer blessed with an expressive face and macabre disposition. After a hilariously inappropriate vocal warm-up, he launches into a painfully absurd explanation of the complex relationship he claims to have developed with his now-deceased gran. This allows Brookes to weave a grotesque narrative featuring deeply unsettling thoughts about his closest family members and his beloved dog. Performing in a side room within a rowdy venue, he is seasoned enough to make significant capital from the noise bleed. He’s also capable of turning audience interaction to his favour, keeping everyone on edge. Brookes is unafraid of drawing out silence for maximum effect, although viewers at the back may miss out on some more subtle physical gags. A truly captivating comedian, Jordan Brookes is
wonderfully unpredictable and gloriously menacing, but it’s a shame that he doesn’t have a stronger ending here. Mind you, it’s perhaps in keeping with his chaotic persona that he can’t more succinctly bring things to a close. (Murray Robertson) ■ Laughing Horse @ Finnegan’s Wake, until 27 Aug (not 14), 6.15pm, free.
48 THE LIST FESTIVAL 10–17 Aug 2017
After a strict Baptist upbringing, John Pendal won the International Mr Leather contest in Chicago, then toured the world, having adventures in assless chaps and rubber cop uniforms as an ambassador for fetishwear. That was a pretty good premise for his debut show last year, but Pendal somehow forgot to mention that he also happened to spend ten years as an escapologist: the premise for his second show. The comedian described as ‘a deviant you could take home to mum’ greets his audience individually as they arrive, with The Great Escape theme playing in the background. He goes through the basics of rope-play, where a ‘rigger’ (often straight men, occasionally straight cowboys) tied him up and he’d have to escape. Tips on safe words, handcuffs and recognising knots add a Boy Scout-practical tone, where Pendal wipe-cleans any smut from his BDSM tutorial, focusing on his cat-loving, geek side instead. His gentle delivery is possibly overly scripted (he does mention his uptight, control-freak tendencies; unlike his ropes, it’s more fun when he loosens up), but observations on the ‘nambypambyfication of Britain’ and Michael Gove’s creepy confidence tie everything together nicely. (Claire Sawers) ■ The Stand 4, until 27 Aug (not 14), 4.45pm, £8 (£7).
Maddy and Marina Bye are real-life sisters who have taken different paths on their respective journeys to ending up doing late-night sketch comedy in a basement room at the Fringe. Maddy went to clown school in France (the steep fees weren’t wasted, based on a strange slapstick scene with a leaf-blower to the face), and Marina had classical training as an actress, which she haughtily reminds the crowd of at regular intervals with faux self-importance.
Skits about an anti-bullying campaign in an
Australian high school, two very plummy yummy mummies enjoying some ‘chitty chatty time’, and a Most Haunted-style TV show work with varying degrees of success. They definitely enjoy letting scenes unravel into ridiculousness, sometimes with hilarious consequences, while other times it just feels like they ran on a bit too long. The girls are possibly upstaged by a home video of
toddler-age Maddy, refusing to take part in a drama class, gazing into space with a 1000-yard stare instead. Some added sound-effects over the top are a nice touch. Smart character comedy, although it comes with peaks and troughs. (Claire Sawers) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, until 28 Aug (not 14, 23), 11.30pm, £8–£9 (£7–£8).