JASON BYRNE Hyperactive, sweat-heavy hurricane 0“.
Much has been written about Jason Byrne's tendency to batter his way through a set so frantically that he would be in serious danger of self- combustion were it not for the copious amount of sweat that keeps his sparks under control. Indeed. if Byrne’s high-speed. high-pitched tirades against the idiocy of the audience. the weather and anything else that comes to his machete-sharp mind were not issued with such maniacal force. the punters would have a chance to reflect on the standard nature of his script.
No doubt influenced by his marriage in December. the Irishman rambles across the bitter lot of a downtrodden husband interspersed with observations about the lunatic tendencies of children. But then. the audience probably never gets to hear about 60% of the set. as Byrne constantly slews off at unpredictable angles to berate unfortunates such as Americans with silly names or men with particularly large. white trainers.
Such is the frenetic power of his roving hurricane of a personality that peOple are actually performing feats of aCrobatic stealth in order to avoid a tongue-lashing as they creep for a toilet break. Catch him now before someone medicates him.
(Katy McAulay)
I Assembly Rooms, 226 2428, until 29 Aug, 70.25pm, E 72—8 74
(£7 7—273).
DALTON TRUMBO
A madcap musical journey 0000
Dalton Trumbo's Reluctant Cabaret is one of those shows that's impossible to describe in a nutshell. The action takes place within Reluctant Mansions. presided over by arrogant raconteur and self-appointed Lord of the Manor. Dalton Trumbo — no relation to the late Hollywood screenwriter. He's accompanied in his
bawdy reconnaissance by the long- suffering Cabaret. disgruntled Lady Hugo on keyboards. loyal manservant Jennifer on bass and spiritual adViser Po-Chi on guitar.
This quartet of Victorian grotesques conducts us on a musical journey that includes such cheeky ClaSSICS as ‘Wonderbra‘ and the interactive ‘Farin Song'. Oh. and there's a stOry of sorts. as Trumbo receives a parcel of ‘hypno-hats'. the wearing of which contrives to bring out the dark recesses of his inner monologue in musical form. As with the best musical parody. there's a Winning clash here between the genuine talent and virtuosity of the players and the downright surreal nature of the subject matter. with highlights including an inventive take on the
PO-Chi.
The Pajama Men
THE PAJAMA MEN 00.00 13 O’CLOCK one.
Imaginative double acts
Stand-up is fine, stand-up is great. Single-persona observational comedy can be invitingly funny if done with style. But there are times when you crave that mental stretch, that elasticity of possibilities only a layered, theatrical, multi-character extravaganza can provide.
Yeah, but (you might argue) live sketch shows are always shite, innit? Mostly. But not always. The Pajama Men (AKA Mark Chavez and Shenoah Allen from New Mexico) take the format, tear it, mangle it, caress it, melt it down and recast it into a postmodern aria of merry madness. Combining virtuoso acting, balletically precise mime, impeccable voice characterisation and playful yet highly intelligent material of a distinctly Beckettian bent, the pair deliver a relentless hour of captivating, self-referential spectacle.
Among the dramatis personae - who morph into one another with the fluidity of quicksilver - are two camp cowboys, some exquisitely observed OAPs, a couple apparently ‘played’ by James Stewart and Audrey Hepburn, and two grotesques straight out of Royston Vasey. Yeah but (you might persist) that still all sounds like a good-on-paper disaster clamouring to be made flesh.
True. But along with everything else, Chavez and Allen have impeccable timing; any skit threatening to
78 THE LIST FESTIVAL MAGAZINE 25 Aug~8 Sep 200:3
banjo duel between Lady Hugo and
The show itself is slick and fast- paced. though the performers are
also qLiick to respond to and interact With their audience. (Allan Radcliffe) I Soul/is‘ide. (567 2212. until 28 Aug, 9pm. 537438 (ES—536).
get mired in its own surrealism is either snipped at the perfect point or folded back on itself in a conceptual and hilarious deconstruction of physical comedy itself. The Pajama Men are like nothing else on the Fringe. (Sam Healy)
13 O’Clock is destined to be another of those sleeper hits - two ladies with the power to make you laugh very hard indeed. Their funnies are presented to us by two argumentative usherettes, unable to decide who will take the central role as the heroine ‘Sarah’ in order to tell her tale. They eventually decide to share the part, though not without some perfectly choreographed bitching. We eventually learn that Sarah has ambitions to be a writer but everyone is thwarting her; then the rest of the ‘cast’ are revealed to us with a flick of a skirt and a bunch of dodgy wigs.
The myriad of characters in the play are performed flawlessly by the pair down to every last tick and idiosyncrasy — Sarah’s monstrous aunt and uncle, her Irish dancing obsessed ex-lover Floyd, her mysterious wheelchair-bound benefactor and his dotty, narcoleptic daughter. Within the script there are heavy nods to popular culture, mainly in the appearance of a Goblin King and his terror maze, a pastiche of David Bowie in Labyrinth. Quite brilliant. (Marissa Burgess)
I Pajama ll/len, Pleasance Courtyard. 556 6550, unti/ 29 Aug, 9.40pm. £‘9.:3()—-l‘l().5() (YB—L‘le l3 O'C/ock. Pleasance Dome. 556 6550. unf1/29Aug, 8.30pm, E849 (16.504760).