Festival Comedy list.co.uk/festival
MATT KIRSHEN The height of nonsense from accomplished comic ●●●●●
Though there are themes to be digested here, what you get with Matt Kirshen’s latest show is an hour of solid stand-up. Intelligent, insightful and rammed with gags, it just goes to show how far the lad who still looks like a teenager has gone: ‘29, I know. . . ‘ he briefly acknowledges as he opens. He’s covered his youthful look in past Fringe sets, so this one avoids that but does touch on his height, (shorter than Napoleon, who we learn, wasn’t actually that titchy). Drawing on his time spent in the States on the reality TV show Last Comic Standing, Kirshen also considers the phenomenon of American optimism and includes a wonderful moment of incredulity at the US right’s reaction to Obama’s proposals for health reform. But it’s the running theme of how getting into trouble as an adult compares to youthful scrapes that leads up to a tension-filled anecdote that, just prior to August, Kirshen wasn’t entirely sure he would be able to pull off in a comedy show. But he does. With aplomb. (Marissa Burgess) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 31 Aug, 10.20pm, £10–£12 (£9– £11).
IDIOTS OF ANTS Glitches mar a slick show from comedy savants ●●●●●
Idiots of Ants aren’t having the best of nights: their projector is on the blink and their performance feels rushed. Killer lines are mumbled through and some of their sketches fall flat with this audience who are rightly expecting something a little more polished from this lauded foursome, back after two sell-out Edinburgh runs. But even with these deficiencies, this energetic troupe are a cut above your average Fringe sketch show. They ooze chemistry from their subversive opening scene to their several creative crowd interactions, including one in which Elliott Tiney (whose sweetly appropriate name is the subject of one too many jokes) takes the audience to dinner.
Moreover, some of their best moments are improvised. Tonight, for
instance, two Idiots inflict unexpected torture on their compatriots during a computer-game sketch as punishment for not checking the projector. The fact that their gags still work without these projected images is proof of the Idiots’ natural comic abilities. Their best moments are ecstatically funny, but with fewer flashy interludes and a tighter, less self-conscious rhythm, this could be a truly euphoric hour. (Yasmin Sulaiman) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 31 Aug, 8.15pm, £9–£10 (£7.50–£8.50).
JUSTIN MOORHOUSE Brash comic’s storytelling mash-up ●●●●●
Justin Moorhouse kicks off his show by taking issue with a review from last year’s Fringe that likened him to a cross between Roy ‘Chubby’ Brown and Coldplay. It’s hard to see the similarity between the drippy bleeding heart liberal rockers and Moorhouse, who is unashamedly non-PC. It’s harder, though, to accept him being hurt by the comparison to the foul- mouthed Geordie comic. Moorhouse’s new show is built
WILLIAM ANDREWS A techno treat and funnybone fondling fiesta ●●●●●
Back in the day when Edinburgh-based comic Will Andrews was flaky Geordie maniac Tony Carter, a propensity for technological hi-jinks either hampered or helped chaotic Fringe shows such as Evil Army or Benefit Fraudster. The New Deal character actually hit the mark more often when he was simply filling up the stage with an over-abundance of nervous tension or climaxing his performance by wrapping himself up in Sellotape. Will Andrews has now extended himself to William Andrews and with Nitwit has fused various parts of his previous act: the digital antics still abound, a Tony Carter-like character gets a look in by taking a small screen version of a mascara-running Anna Crilly back home after a night out, and there’s a brilliant physical finale to the hour. But now all those elements have fused and it all works like an absolute dream; a strong testament to Andrews’ perseverance and abilities.
Mind you, were the technology to fail him, it’s hard to imagine how this show would work at all, with even the longest streams of straight stand-up or character comedy all relying on some kind of techno pay-off from the little box at the front of the stage and its powerkeg of multimedia effects. But his timing with those screened jokes are almost universally spot-on. There is one stomach-dropping moment when it seems that it might all be about to go to pot, but even then there’s a twist in store. Nitwit is a blisteringly inventive hour in the company of a boiler-suited comic who seems to have stuck periods of comedy frustration behind him and is finally getting within touching distance of the big time. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 31 Aug, 6.50pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8).
74 THE LIST FESTIVAL MAGAZINE 27 Aug–10 Sep 2009
around the idea, lifted from film theory, that there are seven basic stories to be told: comedy, tragedy, the quest, the hero’s return, etc. Each narrative archetype provides Moorhouse with a jumping off point, from which he leaps into a series of stream-of- consciousness rants about dwarves, sex, Salford, bankers, the recession and those infernal Fringe critics. Moorhouse can certainly hold a crowd, partly through his breathless, high-decibel delivery and partly through his liberal heckling of audience members. I’ll wager he could beat ‘Chubby’ Brown at his own game. And, for the record, Moorhouse is much funnier. (Miles Fielder) ■ Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 30 Aug, 9.40pm, £10–£11 (£8.50–£9.50). DANIELLE WARD Self-aware yet distinctive act ●●●●●
Danielle Ward is not, it emerges quickly, your common or garden aide- mémoire comic, reheating pre-cooked observations and serving them on a Styrofoam plate of indifferent playing- at-caring. Her thematic inventiveness is evident from the first skit, a surreal and silly (if overlong) true or false quiz. In the darker spells, of which there are many, she is also a maven of the butt- squirming pause. Towers of awkward tension are erected and demolished with nothing more than silence and a crooked smile.
Ward’s strength is her originality. Not once does her set stray into that misguided reappropriation of gender stereotypes (crying, shopping, being bad at DIY) that mires so many good female comics’ acts. Her failing is a broadcasted awareness of this and of her leftfield credentials. She tends to contextualise her jokes (‘this won’t get me on McIntyre’s Roadshow’; ‘if you’re looking for someone who talks about shoes and men you’ve come to the wrong show’ etc), thus dimininshing their impact. Once this self-annotating tic has been reined in, she’ll have the makings of a distinctive, stimulating, envelope- pushing performer. (Sam Healy) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug, 9.45pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8).