F E S T I VA L C O M E DY | Reviews at a Glance R E V I E W S AT A G L A N C E

poetry in between the jokes. Although some of the jokes are cheesier than an aged Parmigiano-Reggiano, and for some reason he thought it a good idea to use a butane torch in a heatwave, Egg serves up one of the freshest experiences on the Fringe. (Suzanne Black) Assembly George Square Gardens, until 25 Aug (not 12), 4.30pm, £10–£12.

GLENN MOORE: LOVE DON’T LIVE HERE GLENNY MOORE ●●●●● Playing around with the notion that you can’t entirely trust what a comedian says, in a style akin to James Acaster’s, Moore’s material harbours an otherworldly quality. He sets out his mendacious stall with his now traditional engagement joke, then pulls back to reveal he’s not entirely telling the truth. Even the method by which he suggests Dignitas off their customers probably isn’t true either. (Marissa Burgess) Pleasance Courtyard, until 25 Aug, 4pm, £9–£11 (£8–£10).

GUY MONTGOMERY: I WAS

PART OF THE PROBLEM BEFORE WE WERE TALKING ABOUT IT ●●●●● New Zealander Montgomery has realised that he, as a straight, white male, has privilege, and he’s ready to do something about it. The concept might be very of the moment, but Montgomery has a fresh take on it, with sardonic observations and gags interwoven with his own personal experiences of growing up in a monoculture, and the impact that’s had on his interpretation of the world around him. (Lauren McKay) Assembly George Square Studios, until 25 Aug (not 14), 8.55pm, £9–£11 (£8–£10).

HARRIET DYER: THE DINOSAUR SHOW ●●●●● Dyer takes to the stage enrobed in a saggy green sack that, she assures us, will transform her into a dinosaur in due course: but first, we the audience must hatch her. Without giving too much of the hour away, it’s safe to say that there is literally nothing about this show that makes any sense whatsoever. Despite setting out to unmask the nefarious government conspiracy behind how, exactly, dinosaurs became extinct, the show is more of a complete free-fall through Dyer’s absurdly anarchic stream of consciousness. (Deborah Chu) Gilded Balloon Patter Hoose, until 26 Aug, 8.15pm, £10–£11 (£9–£10).

JACK BARRY: ALIEN ●●●●● Recovering from a four-month cough, Barry still has a frog in his throat as he bounds onto the stage. You wonder, is he going to make it or will he croak halfway through? He admits that being bed-ridden with a cough does sound a bit childish, but he wins us over with 64 THE LIST FESTIVAL 7–14 Aug 2019

his warm, self-deprecating wit and we’re happy for him to surf home on a sea of laughter. (Tom Bruce-Gardyne) Banshee Labyrinth, until 25 Aug, 8.55pm, donations. revealing some vulnerabilities, with his confessions adding an intriguing layer of pathos. (Marissa Burgess) The Stand 4, until 25 Aug (not 12), 8.15pm, £10 (£8).

JAMIE LOFTUS: BOSS, WHOM IS GIRL ●●●●● If you like your comedy weird, make an appointment to see Loftus. The LA native has a hilariously bizarre show that’s occasionally challenging but never at the expense of humour. This is rip-roaringly funny, highly intelligent and deeply surreal, asking big questions in strange ways. Some brilliantly released moments of audience participation and a wild, rambling non-disclosure agreement are all part of the fun. A weird and wonderful triumph. (Craig Angus) Pleasance Courtyard, until 26 Aug (not 12), 10.45pm, £10–£11 (£9–£10).

JAMIE OLIPHANT: THE OLIPHANT IN THE ROOM ●●●●● Another in an increasingly lengthy list of stand-ups making their way to comedy via the teaching profession, Oliphant is a likeable if largely uninspiring sort on stage. He starts awkwardly with some non-descript front-row chatter before it picks up, and by the end, with his story about being knocked off his bicycle by a motorist, we’re all rooting for him. (Brian Donaldson) Just the Tonic at The Tron, until 25 Aug (not 12, 19), 11.40am, £5 (£4) in advance or donations at the venue.

JOEY PAGE: AFTERLIFE (AN IDIOT CONSIDERS A SERIES

OF DISTRACTIONS BEFORE DEATH) ●●●●● Page has entered his 30s and, as such, now spends a lot of time at John Lewis and owns a tagine. He’s also been thinking a lot about death lately, both his own and the audience’s, and throughout the hour pulls out his ‘Wheel of Death’ to help people divine how they meet their end. There’s the sense that Page isn’t quite sure what kind of comic he wants to be, as he oscillates between observational comedy and sillier, more abstract sketches at a jarring pace. (Deborah Chu) Just the Tonic at Marlin’s Wynd, until 25 Aug (not 12, 15), 6.45pm, £7 (£5) in advance or donations at the venue.

MARC JENNINGS: GETTING GOING ●●●●● Glaswegian Jennings begins with a deconstruction of the idiosyncrasies of his home city’s accent and phrasing. The call-centre job that fuelled a good section of comedy material has been kicked into touch, largely because it features rather strongly in a video clip of his stand-up that went viral. It’s all good- natured, affable stuff but towards the close he digs a little deeper

NAOMI KARAVANI: DOMINANT ●●●●● New Yorker Karavani starts her show with an inauspicious introduction that sets the tone for a long hour. Her inability to focus on the material is possibly compounded by its lack of structure. While it might be refreshing to see a comedian avoid the usual tropes of a Fringe show (a story, jokes, callback), Dominant is a meandering mess. ‘We’re almost done here guys,’ she promises near the end, before adding ‘I think it’s you, not me.’ It’s her. (Murray Robertson) Just the Tonic at Marlin’s Wynd, until 25 Aug (not 12 & 13), 8.05pm, £7 (£4–£5) in advance or donations at the venue.

PAT CAHILL: UNCLE LEN NEEDS A NEW PART FOR HIS HOOVER ●●●●● Cahill steps out under the lights caked in orange goo and sweating beneath a shaggy orange wig. The colour is in homage to ‘cinnamon brown’, Uncle Len’s short- lived cabaret act he performed after 40 years of engineering widgets for Rolls Royce jet engines. Len’s stern expression stares out at the audience via a 3-D print-out of his head as his nephew rambles through this tale of man versus machine, digressing to bring in Mr Tickle and take a well- aimed swipe at recumbent cyclists. (Tom Bruce-Gardyne) Monkey Barrel, until 25 Aug (not 12), 3.15pm, £6 in advance or donations at the venue.

PRIVATES: A SPERM ODYSSEY ●●●●● The ‘privates’ are a trio of comedians dressed in tight-fitting morph suits, kitted out this way to resemble sperms for a mock lecture on human reproduction. It’s a very Fringe conceit, one that could work as a short sketch but is here dragged out to feature length. There’s some nice chemistry between the performers and they seem to be having a lot of fun on stage but, despite attempting some audience interaction, they really struggle to connect with the crowd. (Murray Robertson) Heroes @ Boteco, until 25 Aug (not 10, 14), 5.20pm, £5 in advance or donations at the venue. ROB AUTON: THE TIME SHOW ●●●●● Recalling George W Bush’s simplistic War on Terror diktats, Auton insists that people who come to see his shows are either immediately for or against him. There is actually a middle ground here though, as he enjoyably ticks off some of our concepts about time, though the highly emotional section seems to spring from nowhere

and then drifts off, which rather lessens the intended impact. But the Yorkshire ‘comic’ (even he questions that description) is an intriguingly edgy presence with some good lines and fine audience patter. (Brian Donaldson) Assembly George Square Studios, until 26 Aug (not 13), 2.50pm, £10–£12 (£9–£11). ROISIN AND CHIARA: GET NUPTY ●●●●● Prepare for an hour of bizarre sketches with dynamic duo Róisín O’Mahony and Chiara Goldsmith as they explore sexuality, love and female friendship. The duo are gleeful as they bounce around on stage, and behind the slightly absurd sketches and costumes is a thoughtful message, as they come to the realisation that love is a work in progress. (Lauren McKay) Heroes @ The Hive, until 25 Aug (not 10, 20), 6.20pm, £8 (£5–£6) in advance or donations at the venue.

ROSIE JONES: BACKWARD ●●●●● After a highly praised 2018 debut, Jones is back with an hour about the crazy year she’s had since and the changing perceptions towards her as a disabled person now that’s she’s a bit famous. The set doesn’t always crackle with zingers and there’s the odd stand-up cliché interlude, but Jones is an enjoyably cheeky host. (Brian Donaldson) Pleasance Courtyard, until 25 Aug (not 12), 7pm, £7.50–£10 (£6.50–£9). SUNIL PATEL: WHITE KNIGHT ●●●●● Patel’s set is made of low- key, no-nonsense stuff which at its core reflects on growing up as Indian in the UK and being regularly forced to relate to his ancestry. He counters this with gags on his dad’s favourite comedian being Bernard Manning, and the fact India probably wouldn’t let him in if he was forced to go there. Overall, Patel’s main point about not having to engage in political discourse surrounding race isn’t that convincing, given he has the privilege to ignore it. (Katharine Gemmell) Pleasance Courtyard, until 26 Aug, 8.30pm, £7.50–£9.50 (£6.50–£8.50).

TOM PARRY: PARRYOKE! ●●●●● A member of fêted comedy troupe Pappy’s, solo comic Parry’s shenanigans are renowned for being precision-planned nonsense. He has some staples such as his yellow t-shirt and his propensity to take it off at the slightest provocation while playground games, unflattering photos and best-man speeches pop up this time. The karaoke of the title is present, although not at all in the form you would expect. (Suzanne Black) Pleasance Courtyard, until 26 Aug (not 13), 6pm, £9.50–£12.50 (£8.50–£11.50).