Festival ComedyReviews at a Glance
Adam Riches ●●●●● Even by this crazy character comic’s standards, Riches’ latest show is supremely daft. A theme park inspired by Pierce Brosnan’s turn as a centaur in Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief is the lame excuse for a bolt through several silly equine/cowboy- related sketches. But they give Riches free rein to improvise audience participation to consistently uproarious effect. (Miles Fielder) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug, 4pm, £10–11 (£8.50–9.50). Aidan Bishop ●●●●● Dublin-based American Bishop presents another charming hour of laid-back stand-up. This year his slant is how technology has changed since he ‘were a lad’. As he acknowledges himself, Bishop sounds more like he’s 50 than 30 but it gives him a chance to let off steam in an entertaining hour of bafflement at Twitter and Facebook closing with a re- appearance from an old friend, the suitably lo-fi flipchart. (Marissa Burgess) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 29 Aug (not 16), 10.15pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7.50–£8.50). Alex Horne ●●●●● This is another of Horne’s endearingly geeky, PowerPoint- assisted shows. There’s some bamboozling clever maths, brief lessons in quantum mechanics and pleasing graphics as Horne outlines his bet with William Hill to achieve a hole in one at golf before his 32nd birthday. Plus there’s a bit of audience participation with raffle tickets. (Marissa Burgess) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug (not 16), 8.30pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8–£9). Ali Cook ●●●●● As he promises from the outset, Cook’s magic is both slick and sick. Don’t go for the jokes, unless you like tired Jimmy Carr-style one-liners followed by a leer. But go to be dumbfounded by the mind-boggling illusion and seemingly future-active mindreading. And go to see the ending, then spend the remainder of the night arguing about how the Dickens he did it. (Laura Ennor) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 30 Aug (not 18), 9.45pm, £11–£12 (£9.50–£11). Andrew Bird ●●●●● ‘I have nothing for you,’ states Bird at the opening of his act, in disappointingly prophetic fashion. The next hour drags on with reasons why he isn’t a ‘lad’ and the funny things his wife says. Like being beaten with a roll of toilet paper, Bird is harmless enough but it’s probably not how you would choose to spend your evening. (Gordon Eldrett) Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 29 Aug (not 17), 8.45pm, £8–£9.50 (£7–£8.50). Bec Hill ●●●●● Stand-up doesn’t get more mixed bag than this. In this show from the perky Aussie about the downsides of growing up, there are a couple of gags that shouldn’t have even reached the strangled-at-birth stage. Yet, there’s an endearing quirkiness about Hill which is best illustrated by her comedy drawings, which climax on a most agreeable song-title pun. (Brian Donaldson) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 30 Aug (not 17), 4pm, £8–£9 (£7–£8). Beta Males’ Picnic ●●●●● The Picnic’s preoccupation with death and sexual deviance has finally reached a logical conclusion: the extinction of the human race. Their post-apocalyptic sketch bunker houses mutant abominations, 52 THE LIST 12–19 Aug 2010
infanticidal robots and (naturally) a sinister conspiracy. Most of the jokes are as unabashedly evil as evil one-eyed villain Mr Fletcher; but, like him, they’re also the origin of much (maniacal) laughter. (Matt Boothman) Underbelly, 08445 458 252, until 29 Aug (not 17), 11.35pm, £9-£10.50 (£6.50-£9.50). Brendon Burns ●●●●● Given that Burns yells from start to finish, why the loudmouth Aussie stand-up needs acoustic accompaniment is anyone’s guess. His guitarist mate’s presence also unbalances the show with an opening comic jam that forces Burns to rush the ending. Nevertheless, he manages to go off on extended and overly serious rants about killing paedophiles and getting religion which only prove that, despite his liberal use of the c-word, he’s pretty conservative at heart. (Miles Fielder) Udderbelly’s Pasture, 08445 458 252, until 30 Aug (not 17), 9.55pm, £12.50–£15 (£11–£13). Celia Pacquola ●●●●● If performing stand-up is flirting with humiliation, Celia Pacquola takes humiliation home to meet her mum: having never learned the piano, she ends Flying Solos by attempting a virtuoso piece. She prefaces the attempt by effusively recounting previous ‘solos’, moments when, intentionally or otherwise, she stood out. A buoyant performance, surprising and cathartic for all involved. (Matt Boothman) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 30 Aug (not 17), 6pm, £9.50-£10.50 (£8.50- £9.50). Chris Corcoran ●●●●● It’s not surprising that this young Welsh stand-up should have such a winning stage presence, given he was previously a kids entertainer on CBeebies. His second Fringe show (after a 2004 debut with Welsh Assembly) follows an illuminating tour of his home country, and is largely about what it means to be Welsh. Old clichés – sheep-shagging – are replaced with new – binge drinking in the valleys – but somehow Corcoran makes his people sound rather lovely. (Miles Fielder) Le Monde, 270 3914, until 30 Aug, 6.45pm, £5. Chris McCausland ●●●●● Opening with an incensed email criticising his show’s title – Emotional Retard – which he neatly defends, McCausland meanders off on wildly varying tangents. He’s at his best when philosophising over close relationships and some of his musings carry surprising heft. It’s a bit of a ragtag of ideas and some elements feel forced, although the crescendo hilariously ties up some loose ends. (Murray Robertson) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug (not 18), 7.15pm, £11–£12 (£9.50–£11). Comedy Bitch ●●●●● The terms ‘television’ and ‘Comedy Bitch’ are often uttered in the same breath and no wonder. Their pastiches of pop culture’s favourite genres - horror, espionage, period drama – are intelligent, surreal and original, and their nostalgic incidental soundtracks are ace. This six-strong, virtuosic troupe explores gender roles, biscuit symbolism and bestial offspring via laugh-out-loud sketches that are surely destined for the small screen. (Nicola Meighan) Underbelly, 08445 458 252, until 29 Aug (not 16), 6.15pm, £9–£10.50 (£6.50–£9.50). Comedy in the Dark ●●●●● Selling a show as ‘comedy in the dark’? Make sure the lights go out completely in the venue. It’s interesting to see well- known comics pitched out of their comfort zones (Shappi Khorsandi discovering how much of her routine was based on facial comedy; the ever-excellent Jon Richardson dropping pre-prepared material altogether to play games), but in the half-light, we could still see them. (Kirstin Innes) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 19 Aug, 11.45pm, £10. Conor O’Toole ●●●●● Since making a disappointing Fringe debut here in front of an audience of two reviewers, this young Irish comic is doing the right thing and spending time at shows of more experienced stand-ups. While he has acres to learn about delivery and presence, O’Toole at least has some good joke- writing at his fingertips. The correct harnessing of this raw talent should reap handsome rewards in the years to come. (Brian Donaldson) Apex City Hotel, 243 3596, until 30 Aug (not 17), 11.30am, £7 (£6). Damion Larkin ●●●●● Full of confidence, presumably from his years at the coalface of stockbroking, Larkin’s story of being a Cuddly Loser has the feel of being hurriedly chucked-together and in dire need of narrative moulding. Still, for a fiver, you’ll get to hear one of the cleverest, if ickiest, moments of wordplay at the Fringe. (Brian Donaldson) The Caves, 556 5375, until 29 Aug (not 16), 1.20pm, £5. Dan Antopolski ●●●●● It’s difficult for a comedian to both maintain a wide appeal and avoid falling into a safe and cliché-riddled set. Antopolski copes admirably with the mission, mixing gags (and there’s one to compete with last year’s ‘hedgehog’ phenomenon) with personal anecdotes, songs, raps and trips into the delightfully surreal. A strong recommendation for a confidently entertaining hour. (Siân Bevan) Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 30 Aug, 8pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8–£9). Dave Hill ●●●●● US comic Hill adopts a shy frat boy persona to chronicle the wide-eyed travels of an unsuccessful rock band of thirtysomethings in Japan. Endearingly conveying the marvel of garage band ambition, Hill’s relentless desire to rock provides a solid basis for further musings on the importance of doing what one loves. Big in Japan navigates a fine path between the crass and the classy. (Rosalie Doubal) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 29 Aug (not 16), 8.15pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8). Edward Aczel ●●●●● Aczel’s latest show is a hi-energy romp packed with sharp one-liners. Only joking, it’s as low- key and anti-comedy as ever. Reading from his A4 notes, flicking through his badly presented flipchart and barely making eye contact, he reveals all the things he could have been in life then divulges his un-dynamic ideas for a TV show. Somehow incredibly funny without even trying. (Marissa Burgess) Underbelly, 08445 428 252, until 29 Aug, 7.35pm, £9.50–£11 (£6.50–£10). Felix Dexter ●●●●● The veteran character comic introduces us to Julius the Nigerian, dispirited at the lack of romance in bump ‘n’ grind R&B, Harlesden wide boy Early D and posh Cotswold bigot
Aubrey who ‘sees the point in the working class’. Though there’s nothing groundbreaking here – there are plenty of neat pull back and reveal type gags – it’s a solidly enjoyable hour of observational stand-up and nicely realised characters. (Marissa Burgess) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug (not 18), 9pm, £13–£14 (£11.50–£13). Geraldine Quinn ●●●●● In an era of ‘pop with no pants’, Geraldine Quinn explains how to be a singing sensation, even if you can’t sing: flash your flesh, your cash and your camel toe. Vivacious and confident, Quinn mercifully can hit a note, and her lyrics are wry and satirical. Let’s hope she’s not snapped up by Simon Cowell, as she has the potential to blossom on the comedy circuit. (Rebecca Ross) Underbelly, 08445 458 252, until 29 Aug (not 18), 10.20pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£6.50–£9.50) Giacinto Palmieri ●●●●● Due to Palmieri’s comically strong Italian accent and the manic whirring of several fans, it was hard to determine precisely how funny this gentle narrative about nationality and language was or wasn’t. Respect to the man for his charm, and attempt to make us laugh in his non-native language, but this stilted performance was a pile of sweaty meatballs. (Peggy Hughes) C soco, 0845 260 11234, until 30 Aug, 5.35pm, £8.50–£10.50 (£7.50–£9.50). Goring and Stokes ●●●●● Two geeks eke laughs out of a PowerPoint display and student-friendly material about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Doctor Who and Judge Dredd comics. After Chris Stokes’ lethargic pedantry in the first half (‘I think you’ll find’ is the nerd’s catchphrase, he explains), Graham Goring (a video game designer) warms the second half up with his tech-heavy eBay and Google-based nonsense. (Claire Sawers) The Caves, 556 5375, until 29 Aug (not 16), 2.40pm, £6–£7 (£5–£6). Henning Wehn ●●●●● As long as German humour remains a joke in itself, Wehn’s enormously referential style is unlikely to change. It’s lucky he can still do it with the originality and talent it requires, with his outsider take on British culture spawning some inspirational comments on Bobby Sands, sectarianism and the community spirit of lifting a fridge. (Thomas Meek) The Caves, 556 5375, until 29 Aug (not 17), 9.10pm, £8.50–£10.50 (£6.50–£9.50). Jack Whitehall ●●●●● Having Robert Pattinson as a classmate has left Jack Whitehall with a chip on his shoulder, though you don’t feel the 22- year-old comic has real enthusiasm for bashing the Twilight star. Similarly, with jokes on swimming lessons and the vagaries of French textbooks, this set is mostly the amusing juvenilia of Whitehall’s high school reminisces. Learning Difficulties is confidently delivered, but lacking real substance. (Jonny Ensall) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 29 Aug (not 16), 7.15pm, £10–£11.50 (£8.50–£10). Jimeoin ●●●●● An hour with Jimeoin is an hour of tickling, low-key observations about the little things, the sweet little interior monologue of a normal bloke negotiating everyday stuff, such as how to conserve energy opening the fridge, or the speed of a knife through