FESTIVAL COMEDY | Reviews
ONGALS: BABBLING COMEDY Old-school circus skills from talented baby-like crew ●●●●●
Anyone who couldn’t look during those ‘bitty’ sketches with David Walliams in Little Britain is advised to give this one a wide berth. For those who can handle watching grown men acting like babies, this is a circus show from Korea with magic, tricks and beatboxing. Initially the sight of three adult men in pastel pyjamas, crawling about the stage, bickering and gurgling like babies is, let’s not lie, a bit weird. Turns out it’s not a fetish night though. Nope, it’s an hour-long comedy circus that works well for kids, fans of fart jokes, slapstick enthusiasts or people (especially handy for non-English speakers) that love old-school circus skills.
The show is non-verbal; like toddlers, the cast communicate with baby gibberish, and play out a range of Laurel and Hardy emotions with body language and bendy facial expressions, from joy, to mild huff, through to outright tantrum. Warming the crowd up with some gentle clowning for starters, the three Ongals play with props, making balloon animals for the crowd, then do the U-rated version of a sword-swallowing act, using a long balloon instead of a blade for minimal carnage. In among the bum jokes (the crowd goes wild when the balloon
pump gets used on the Ongals’ back-door area), there’s a lot of impressive skill on show, and some lo-tech, traditional tricks too. Beautiful Korean handbells ring out the tune of ‘Oh! Susanna’, a bullwhip gets cracked very close to an Ongal’s quivering face, a Coca-Cola can gets magically uncrushed and refilled, and some real knives are juggled with a blindfold on.
The second half brings in beatboxing, with nice twists on the volume control before a finale of juggling, glowing neon lights spinning through the air. Good clean fun for the family, and luckily not an adult nappy in sight. (Claire Sawers) ■ Assembly Roxy, until 28 Aug, 6.05pm, £15 (£12).
JOHN KEARNS: DON’T WORRY THEY’RE HERE Wistful weirdness from award winner ●●●●● GIANTS: FOR AN HOUR Big sketch laughs from double act ●●●●●
SEYMOUR MACE’S MAGICAL SHITCAKES FROM HEAVEN Oddball antics that border on tedium ●●●●●
Being an award-winner doesn’t mean people are going to like you. John Kearns knows this, perhaps better than most. Three years after his Edinburgh Comedy Award win for Best Show – which in turn was a year after his Best Newcomer victory, an unprecedented feat – Kearns is back at the Fringe with another oddball, absurd hour of character comedy, balding wig and oversized false teeth still in place. And some people in this packed and humid room are still just not getting it.
Kearns is hyper-aware of the tension, and seems on edge. But some of the best lines come from his interaction with clueless audience members, and it’s in these moments his talent shines brightest. The show itself is characteristically wistful, and nostalgic in its charming deference to Eric Morecambe.
There are some solid laughs, but more than anything, Don’t Worry They’re Here feels like a study in loneliness, a portrait of someone who’s not sure where to go after running ‘the race of his life’ (as he puts it himself in an apt horse-racing anecdote). It needs a little more cohesion, but overall it’s sad and lovely, falsies and all. (Yasmin Sulaiman) ■ Heroes @ Monkey Barrel, until 27 Aug (not 16), 5pm, £7 or Pay What You Want.
54 THE LIST FESTIVAL 10–17 Aug 2017
Entering their small stage with a high energy that threatens to blow the roof off the place, Norwegian musical duo Fjord are here to show exactly why they came second in Eurovision. Except, of course, ‘bad boys’ Lars and Ulrik do not really exist. Not only are they the main characters in this new show by Giants (aka Will Hislop and Barney Fishwick), they represent the key trigger behind the hour’s narrative.
Pals since boyhood, the pair invented Fjord at school but while Will needs that band to continue in order to feel whole in the world and connected to his mate, Barney longs to ditch this childish crutch so he can break free and pursue his acting career (he certainly possesses the limbs to wield a particularly impressive swan dive).
This double-act game in which one person is
holding back the ambitions of the other can be traced back to, at the very least, Morecambe and Wise, while in Fringe terms, The Pin had a very similar conceit propelling their 2013 show. The familiar power-play meta-narrative does bubble away though and produces some big laughs. And there’s extra kudos for surely the finest referencing this Fringe of the PM’s ‘fields of wheat’ calamity. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, until 27 Aug (not 14), 4.30pm, £9–£11 (£8–£10).
A 48-year-old man in a homemade chicken outfit, a clown doll and one of the saddest songs committed to vinyl. Put them together and you get the opener to Seymour Mace’s latest concoction of diverting silliness juxtaposed with bouts of abject misery, and a good indication of the remaining hour’s content. Mace has made a name for himself with his brand
of homespun daftness and, as in previous shows, the wonky props are all there along with the gameshow moments and the aim of injecting some childlike laughter into our often bleak existences. It’s certainly a noble goal and, for existing initiates and new fans alike, may provide a comedic respite from modern life’s many tensions; but the apotheosis of absurd humour to some is merely tedious antics to others.
Mace clearly has his followers and they will not be disappointed by his latest round of silliness. If whimsical illustrations, oddball skits and an attempt to heal society’s alienation through dressing up like pirates sounds like time well spent then this may be the one for you. But it’s undoubtedly not for everyone, as his Edinburgh Comedy Award-nominated 2015 show title Niche as Fuck! attests. (Suzanne Black) ■ The Stand III, until 27 Aug (not 14), 1.30pm, £12 (£10).