Loyd Grossman -

Out To Lunch!

‘l’ve attempted, in the course of this


loyd Crossinan: coulis dude

show, to explain how Loyd Crossman speaks the way that he does,’

announces Ban Fenton, a man trained in phonetics and not perturbed by the

seemingly impossible.

Fenton can proudly boast that he has done absolutely no research into the life of the Masterchef-presenting phenomenon, yet he plans to explain the genesis of those bizarre vowel values, from Loyd’s first arrival in England to his ultimate triumph on


Sooooo heeeee’ll be discussing Loyd’s first West End play, a piece of

social commentary which sadly was


Council’s Stereotyping Directive, and also taking a look at Loyd’s

9 undergraduate experiences at the

University of the Mid-Atlantic,

g formerly Pontypridd Polytechnic. This

establishment was of course essential

j to Loyd’s development, for it was here

that he first attended lectures in Culinary Psychology.

The slightly nervy may of course point out that Loyd is still alive and well and deforming language somewhere at this very moment, so isn’t Fenton a little bit worried that

3 his god may be slightly wrathful at this heretical interpretation?

‘Whatever we’ve conjured up to be Loyd’s background is perfectly

acceptable to him,’ explains Fenton.

‘It isn’t vicious by any means.’ Apparently Loyd saw the show during its pre-Fringe run in London and loved it, sending flowers and congratulations backstage (strangely, no vol-au-vents, however).

But has Fenton’s attitude to Loyd changed in the course of writing his biography? ‘Oh no, I love him,’ says

Fenton, refuting such a vicious

allegation. ‘lle can do no wrong as far as I’m concerned. I’m personally

. gripped by Masterchef, and I find that everything that is not Loyd is a waste

of time.’

Strange but sincere. And his best example of Loyd humour? The opening to his Breakfast Show: ‘Hi there welcome back, later in the programme we’ll be asking: rear seatbelts, could they spell an end to teenage pregnancy?’ You’ll have to imagine the voice yourself. (Stephen Chester)

Loyd Crossman - Out To Lunch (Fringe)

nan Fenton, Festival Club (Venue 36)

' 650 2395, 28 Aug-3 Sept, 8.15pm, £4

censored by an enforcer of the Arts (£3.50). Steady Eddy-

Quantum Limp Tour

llalf this show is seriously funny, the rest is packed with bad puns and jokes whose punchlines can be see running at you over the horizon. The seriously funny stuff is pretty evenly split between spastic jokes and hard- assed Aussie invective; bitter humour that comes breathing hard out of the southern hemisphere with a bad


Every stand-up has to have a gimmick. Stdy’s is that he is disabled (or at least he was until he went to the States). A spastic. Cerebral palsy for the politically correct at the back there. Maybe he didn’t choose his gimmick, but It does give him a virtual monopoly on cripple


lie is funny. But is that funny full stop? Funny because he’s a differently-abled person telling jokes about the differently-abled? 0r funny because he’s articulating all those

Steady Eddy: spastic joker jokes that PC theory and practice forbid? It’s a bit of each. But like .lo Brand talking about weight gain, Steady has that ring of authenticity. There are people who will find the whole notion of Steady’s show sick. But there again, they’ll probably find all his material sick. And so it is. Seriously sick. Excellent. (Thom llibdin) Steady Eddy Quantum Limp Tour (Fringe) Steady Eddy, Gilded Balloon (Venue 38) 226 2151, until 3 Sept,

8.45pm, £7.50 (£6.50).



Fallen Angels: clipped wings it's a multi-media kinda thing: television screens flashing up blipverts from films. cartoons. the House ()f Commons. the street. the stage itself. all set to a pneumatic techno soundtrack. This is Fecund Theatre‘s journey into the twilight world of sado-masochist clubs and is. according to the writer. ‘a metaphor for the idea of people wanting to transcend what everyday life offers us'.

The six players are dynamic enough, weaving a stylised tale of one girl‘s crucifixion at the hands of some proseltysing sleazeballs. From psychological torment to physical torture. she submits to their whims because it nullifies her sense of inadequacy etc. etc. But so overwrought and abstract are the dialogue and set-pieces that. far from offering a signpost on the road of life. Fallen Angels simply offers a dead-end diversion for histrionic saddoes everywhere. The new szulist/masochist adverts for Tennents Lager are more instructive. (Craig McLean)

I Fallen Angels (Fringe) liecund Theatre. Bedlam Theatre (Venue 49) 225 9893. until 3 Sept (not Suns) 8.10pm. £7 (£5).


Shag. Shag. Vagina. Shag. Those are the punchlines. They come in rapid succession. though not necessarily in that order. in a slick barrage of vigorous vulgarity as Jenny liclair tries to prove how naughty she is. There are two problems here. The first is that anyone who has to try so hard to persuade us of her wickedness is unlikely to be half as dissolute as she claims. The second is that even if I believed every word she said (and with

comedy that's hardly a prerequisite). I‘m just not shocked by her.

So while it's easy to be impressed by her con lidence and ever- hopeful that one day her more explosive. spontaneous moments could come to dominate the act. I can‘t say she

makes me laugh very

much. (Mark Fisher)

I Jenny Eclair’s Bad

: Behaviour Show (Fringe) ' Jenny Eclair. Pleasance (Venue 33) 556 6550.

until 3 Sept. 8.30pm. £7/£8 (£6/£7).



Jimeoin: big laughs, little toe

Gently. Jimeoin pulls us closer to himself and ourselves. This is a man who watches and takes notes. Jimeoin has spotted that people hunch their shoulders up because they think this keeps them dry in the rain; that the little toe is immobile. sad and only used to bang into the corner of the bed; that you never come out of a club. steaming. and go. ‘boy. I could murder an apple‘ only crap food will do. lley ho. another observational comic. another succession of laughs built round the essential premise of ‘jeez. that's right. you (In do that.‘ But where this ()1.- based lrish bletherer scores is that he treds this well-trodden turf with a bemused blokeyness far from coming over like some knowing smart- Alec. it's clear that this stuff perplexes Jimeoin as much as it perplexes us. It's not just Jimeoin that's funny. we're all funny inducing that mutual realisation is his triumph.

- (Craig McLean)

I Jimeoin (Fringe).

George Square Theatre (Venue 37) 650 2()()l. until 2‘) Aug. 9.45pm. £7.50 (£5).


Most comics try to do a funny turn tonight Jeff Green had one. Ten minutes from the end he started looking a bit peaky and it looked like a chair would have to be brought out from the wings. He was all right ofcourse. but the audience reaction said something about Green. Everyone was really concerned. He‘s just too honest to pull a stunt like that. which is probably how Green manages to squeeze a laugh out of pretty standard. observational material - he comes across as so decent and likeable. Warm, skittish comedy that demands nothing more than a laugh from the audience. (Eddie Gibb)

I Jeff Green (Fringe) Assembly Rooms (Venue 3) 226 2428. until 3 Sept. 9pm. £8/9 (£7/8).


Rod Serling wrote prolifically for US television in the 1950s and 60s. He was in at the birth of network television. winning limmy awards for his teleplays and later creating The 'liviligh! Zone. Serling immediately saw the creative potential of television. as did the advertising men who quickly starting influencing programmes and even Serling's plot detail. In Andrew J. Wilson‘s play. Scrling is caught in his own Twilight Zone. forced by his alter-ego to look into the mirror of his misshapen genius. The writer as television gameshow host is a peculiarly American fate and in this well-observed piece Serling is the message of the medium. (Ronan O‘Donnell)

I The Terminal Zone (Fringe) Thirteen O'Clock Productions. Planet Holyrood (Venue 116) 556 5044. 14—27 Aug. 9.15pm. £5 (£4).

42 The List 26 August—8 September I994