Festival ComedyReviews at a Glance list.co.uk/festival

Adam Vincent ●●●●● Adam Vincent doesn’t want to be a nurse, and with the cut of his comedy jib, why bother with the arduous hours, the inflamed hypochondria and the sick people that the job entails. Sometimes preachy, his is an otherwise enjoyably oddball set that swithers between charming reverie, passive aggression and a new manifesto for the way we live featuring minestrone soup. (Peggy Hughes) Assembly Hall, 623 3030, until 29 Aug, 6.45pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9). Asher Treleaven ●●●●● Like a cross between Mr Burns and John Cleese if either or both were excessively camp and Australian and dressed like a 1920s dandy Asher Treleaven is all creepy circus smiles and restlessly gesticulating fingers throughout this unpredictable and uneven routine. Secret Door is all about manliness and sex, and for all that the content is familiar, the way it’s presented is often hilariously outrageous. (Laura Ennor) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug, 8.40pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9). Barry & Stuart ●●●●● Whether you believe The Sandman exists or not and having him call my name through the medium of a lady plucked ‘randomly’ from the crowd hasn’t made me sleep especially easily these last few nights the Aberdeenshire boys still put on a hell of a compelling show. While naturally witty, their comedy takes a distant second place to the illusions and those are first class. (Brian Donaldson) Underbelly, 08445 458 252, until 29 Aug, 10.20pm, £10–£12 (£6.50–£11). Broderick Chow ●●●●● Broderick Chow is a Canada-born Chinese-Filipino, living in London, but it’s his show that has identity issues. Reading aloud from Marxist economy textbooks one minute, then rapping in Korean (a language he doesn’t understand a word of, he points out), before clumsily criticising UK and US politics, he covers too much ground, without ever actually stumbling into any comedy turf. (Claire Sawers) Surgeons Hall, 0845 508 8515, until 28 Aug (not 22), 5.10pm, £5. The Brothers Streep ●●●●● Besuited duo The Brothers Streep are not related. This fact is painfully obvious as they ramble over each other between songs, displaying a total lack of chemistry. Throughout a vapid hour they bemoan that Currys doesn’t sell curries and Boots stocks no boots. On the plus side this is inoffensive enough and they play all the right notes. (Murray Robertson) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 29 Aug, 6.15pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7.50–£8.50). Carl Donnelly ●●●●● Being famous is not on Carl Donnelly’s wishlist. Besides, the press now have some pictures of him looking a bit daft filed in their archive, ready to be plucked out at the moment when he attains true celebrityhood and does something shameful. For now, last year’s Best Newcomer nominee is just intent on getting his stand-up craft down to a fine art, and he’s more than nearly there. (Brian Donaldson) Underbelly, 08445 458 252, until 29 Aug, 8.55pm, £10–£11.50 (£6.50–£10). Checkley Bush ●●●●● Checkley Bush is a bawdy, musical realm in which 42 THE LIST 19–26 Aug 2010

Asher Treleaven

Cher and Liza Minnelli are housewives, Peter Andre is a pop avenger, and an imminent visit by Sandi Toksvig equals front-page news. Actors Laura Checkley and Victoria Bush cavort through sketches, film clips and hit-parade parodies, while their madcap impressions and a genius Lambada compensate for misfires like the civic-centre séance. (Nicola Meighan) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 30 Aug, 2.30pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7.50–£8.50). Chris Ramsey ●●●●● For someone who purports to hate aggro, Chris Ramsey is an angry young man. From posh kids to Jeremy Kyle, his targets are deserving if a little obvious. He’s an amiable presence, delivering solid observations at an extraordinary pace in an intimate venue that struggles to contain his personality. Some of the presentation feels a little over-polished but there’s great potential here. (Murray Robertson) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug, 8.30pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8). Clever Peter ●●●●● Blood is, no doubt, what fuels this comedy trio’s hyperactive sketch show as they sweat buckets throughout (not helped by the brightly-coloured jumpers), while the tears are those belonging to their laughing audience. So, in Blood, Sweat & Tears, some crazy dancing between skits, asides to the crowd and recurring jokes hold Clever Peter’s hotch-potch of generally very funny and always well- acted sketches together. (Miles Fielder) Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 29 Aug, 9.40pm, £8–£10 (£6–£8). Colin Hoult ●●●●● A great opening gag involving unintelligible sounds and an unwanted baby sets the tone for the next hour. Hoult plays characters from the fringes, who are by turns creepy, disgusting and unsettling. There’s the movie lover from Nottingham and his psychotic screenplays, the sinister boyfriend and the frustrated, estranged dad trying to figure out a Christmas gift for his kid. Assured, accomplished, and funny as hell. (Carmody Wilson) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug, 4.45pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8). Creatures ●●●●● Susan Harrison is a tiny wee ball of ginger energy. Her character sketch show is akin to being at a conference in The Office with the cast of Animaniacs: the humour is toe- curlingly awkward and the characters like twisted fairytales. It’s better than most TV shows of a similar format, but it would be a crime to put a screen between the audience and her ferocious presence. (Suzanne Black) Jury’s Inn, 0845 508 8387, until 21 Aug, 10.05pm; 23–28 Aug, 9.05pm, £6 (£5). Crumpets, Muffins and Afternoon Teas(e) ●●●●● Tammy Stone is an accomplished vocalist somewhat wasted on a set of bitter songs, too many of which end with the objet d’amour being killed and eaten by the bonkers songstress. Her lyrics have the potential to spin the gloriously inappropriate into comedy gold, but are bogged down in cliché and hampered by a lack of connection with the audience. Overwhelmingly, there’s more unease than tease here. (Rebecca Ross) Zoo Southside, 662 6892, until 30 Aug, 4pm, £7.50 (£7). Dag Sørås ●●●●● At the end of Magnus Betnér’s Stand show, the Swede implores his audience to hang around for his best friend and ‘the better comedian’, Norway’s Dag Sørås. The pair certainly share some common themes (suicide, religion, the right wing) while both are recent fathers who find it difficult not to indulge their vices. Quality-wise, there’s very little to separate them also, and Sørås makes hilarious hay with a cautionary tale about pleasuring yourself in the same room as a household pet. (Brian Donaldson) The Stand III & IV, 558 7272, until 29 Aug, 11.30pm, £8 (£7). Daniel Rigby ●●●●● The life of a born-again Christian who lapsed back into the world of reason sounds like the stuff that Fringe epics are made from. But after a solid beginning, Rigby’s Afterbirth dips badly, with not even the

little baby Jesus capable of resurrecting the show. There’s one nice joke about religion and censorship but the hour could have done with giving us more about the context and the trajectory of his conversion(s), but is ultimately just a ragbag of facial gymnastics and titbits about ghosts, Noah and the Alpha Course. (Brian Donaldson) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug, 7.15pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8). Des Bishop ●●●●● Irish-American comic Bishop may be right when he calls this ‘the most honest show at the Fringe’. His father’s recent terminal cancer diagnosis provides the launching-off point for a funny, insightful, and surprisingly tender journey through the life of his dad, a former bit-part actor. The jokes don’t always come quite as thick and heavy as they should but the show’s riotous denouement is worth the entrance fee alone. (Peter Geoghegan) Assembly Rooms, 623 3030, until 29 Aug (not 23), 8.05pm, £12–£14 (£11–£13). The 80s Movie Flashback ●●●●● ‘Thanks for coming out tonight and braving trench foot, as well as the slight risk of black death,’ smiles the chirpy cheerleader leading the show, over the sound of water trickling down the walls. It’s a ramshackle, pseudo-Butlins presentation, with has-been movie characters coming out of the woodwork to share the details of a new karaoke business or B&B. If you like self-aware tackiness, try it out; but wear your wellies. (Niki Boyle) The Caves, 556 5375, until 28 Aug, 12.20am, £6–£7 (£5–£6). Eirlys Bellin ●●●●● In the same cosy room in 2008, Isabel Fay presented a claustrophobic set of oddball characters who appeared with a bang before fizzling out all too quickly. The same is true of Eirlys Bellin’s show, Unaccustomed As I Am, in which a quartet of irritants are thrust into the limelight of public speaking for the first time. Naturally, they all blow it, from the mum hosting a party for her eight-year-old to the bridesmaid delivering a wholly inappropriate wedding speech. Clichés abound and laughs fail to rise up from this decent enough idea. (Brian Donaldson) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug, 3.30pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8). Eric’s Laws of the Land ●●●●● Interactive stand-up Eric has some half- baked plans to overturn UK legislation. His targets are sometimes vaguely diverting (Radio 1 should re-think its vocabulary) or mildly amusing (stone- cladding should be a capital offence). But the upshot is less a caper on the scales of justice, and more a rambling contrivance from which to hang clichés about football, TV and women’s toilets. (Nicola Meighan) The Caves, 556 5375, until 29 Aug, 6pm, £5. Gareth Richards ●●●●● Despite containing three separate anecdotes involving the deaths of relatives, Richards’ mix of quaint, bumbling stand- up and surreal, amateurish songs still lifts the spirits. The pointlessness of life may be the theme on offer, but it’s counteracted by Richards’ very real charm modest as it is making this a show more joyful and entertaining than its parts. (Thomas Meek) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug, 6pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8).