FESTIVAL COMEDY | Reviews

JAMALI MADDIX: VAPE LORD A sombre show with flashes of inspiration ●●●●●

It may not be up there for dramatic impact alongside Hannah Gadsby’s stand-up retiral, but three-quarters of the way through Vape Lord, Jamali Maddix half-announces that he’s probably, maybe, going to give comedy a swerve from now on. Possibly. At age of just 27, the Londoner feels over-the-hill and creatively spent. For some people, time flies with our spell on this planet merely fleeting: for Maddix, his less than three decades have dragged. There are lots of things in the world to get upset about it, but it’s unclear what exactly is bringing Maddix down, He does, however, seem especially hostile to the programme that helped make his name. In Viceland’s Hate Thy Neighbour, Maddix went around America and Europe challenging the views of far-right groups, often putting himself in real danger. One incident left him feeling outraged and as though his soul had been fully sold to the TV devil: he now decries the programme as the ‘worst show ever’.

Back in the comfort zone of live comedy, his stage presence is undeniable even if he opens with the warning that his show ‘might not be that good’. Feeling his age, he simultaneously pays tribute to the original motives behind political correctness while fretting about the censorious nature of current public discourse.

This ‘bad boy’ might vape away on stage but he seems ill at

ease with his material, falling back on some decent crowd work when he reaches another dead end. To his credit, he has a bit on cats and dogs which reminds us that this long-deceased stand-up topic is always worth resurrecting if the joke is worthy enough. And unsurprisingly, he has some strong routines about racism and gender politics, musing on whether the assassination of a prominent white woman is the inevitable step in this #MeToo world. (Brian Donaldson) Monkey Barrel, until 26 Aug, 6pm, £8 in advance or donations at the venue.

OLAF FALAFAL: THERE’S NO I IN IDIOT Unique logic takes us on a silly journey ●●●●●

At first, an Olaf Falafel show appears as random as a bag of Revels whose contents have been entirely replaced by parsnips. But in among the daftness somehow a semblance of sense and structure begins to emerge, albeit that which adheres to a uniquely Falafel kind of logic involving dolphins, tiny Mexican waves and the Cure’s Robert Smith. There can’t be many shows at this year’s Fringe more loveably idiotic than this. Even Falafel’s version of that stand-up staple opener of comedically pointing out what you look like is far more inventive than most. Among the ridiculous and surreal ideas is Jenga

with old people, a series of silly funerals and throughout Falafel returns to Biscuitology, where he tells your fortune by what biscuit you favour. But frankly, that makes as much sense as personality traits based on what time of the year you were born. There’s plenty of skill in evidence though as well as a love of the English language within his myriad of one-liners, plays on words and puns aplenty. The childlike joy of this middle-aged Scandinavian builds to an equally nonsensical climax topping off his hour of silly. (Marissa Burgess) Laughing Horse @ The Pear Tree, until 20 Aug (& 26), 2.45pm; 21–25 Aug, 12.15pm, donations.

48 THE LIST FESTIVAL 15–27 Aug 2018

JOANNE MCNALLY A shaky start with a solid recovery ●●●●● CHRIS WASHINGTON: YOU BEAUTY Top-notch bull from a rising comic ●●●●●

Joanne McNally is not exactly a stranger to the comedy circuit. Some might still think of her as a newbie, but over three years of stand-up under her belt and her sold-out shows here prove otherwise. The Irish comedian definitely has the skill, but needs perhaps to learn a few things from the ‘woke’ friends she consistently jokes about.

Wine Tamer starts with McNally choosing a member

of the audience to be the ‘energy barometer’ who rates the level of excitement in the room. This is a good ice-breaker, had it only been relevant again in the set. She pumps up the crowded room only to dive into jokes about how unfortunate she is that she doesn’t have depression or has never been abused so that she could have ‘bad’ things to talk about. After awkwardly calling out comedians that use their

craft as a vehicle to work through such issues (only a year after her own show was based on her history of eating disorders), McNally steps into the spotlight with fresh, relevant material. It’s an uphill journey as she hilariously explores the gender disparity of online dating, feminism and sexual liberation. The show closes strongly, but the rocky introduction leaves a sour aftertaste. (Sofia Matias) Assembly George Square Studios, until 27 Aug, 5.35pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7.50–£8.50).

Chris Washington bemoans the fact that technology has ruined the everyday speculation and misplaced certainties that led to classic banter. ‘Where have all the bullshitters gone?’ he asks. It would be fair to say that professional bullshitting resulted in Washington having a monumental past 12 months. Having taken three weeks off from his job in Wigan, he wandered up to Edinburgh to just have a go with the easy-going comedy he claims is all ‘ballbags and biscuits’. The fact that he subsequently landed a Best Newcomer nomination was as much of a surprise to him as it was to the wider comedy community which had barely registered his name until it was announced on the shortlist. Returning home to reality at the end of last August, he had little idea that he would soon be making headlines for another reason . . . This follow-up hour is largely his fish-out-of-water story about suddenly being elevated in an alien world, with the recollection of keeping his Wigan mates under control at the awards ceremony a highlight. Despite fluffing his big finish, Washington had already created enough warmth in the room for the crowd to let that slide. Having finally quit the day job, his career change is shaping up nicely. (Brian Donaldson) Pleasance Courtyard, until 26 Aug, 8.30pm, £8–£10 (£7–£9).