{COMEDY} Reviews
ANDREW DOYLE A full-on assault on the borders of taste ●●●●●
Russell Kane has made a habit out of turning negative comments by reviewers into the show title for his subsequent Fringe show. Easy Cliché and Tired Stereotype and Gaping Flaws were both borne from lines penned by critics. Andrew Doyle has not only stolen a line from a bad review, but has grabbed it with both hands to form the basis for this show, which explores the power of signs and icons and the various interpretations we place on imagery laid before us.
His Crash Course in Depravity is pretty much just that, aided (or led astray) by the directorial guidance of Scott Capurro who once likened Doyle to ‘Gore Vidal in a confessional’. Chances are the pair would have had a heated debate over the most controversial moment in Doyle’s show, a not-so fleeting glimpse into the kind of thing that used to get Moira Knox and her moral Edinburgh minority all enflamed. Usually this was due to Jim Rose sticking a nine- inch nail into places that would seriously chafe a normal person, but Knox would have had a full-on conniption had she been present here. It takes a strong stomach to prevent audience members from turning away (or fleeing the room) as Doyle takes the title of his show to new levels of bravery (or stupidity) with an act that was either brilliantly faked or fully justified the 18s- only ruling for admittance. That moment aside, Doyle (who was once the comedy partner of Bridget Christie, their Axis of Evil playing the Underbelly in 2005), turns out to be a confrontational but largely genial host, flirting with and baiting the lads in the front row, while on screen, a blizzard of pornography has not long since faded out. His calmly apologetic plea that ‘I don’t mean to be offensive’ is later replaced by the primal howl of ‘I’m not depraved!’ Any shrinking violets looking on at that moment would probably disagree. (Brian Donaldson) ■ The Store, 556 5375, until 28 Aug, 6.20pm, £6.50–£7.50 (£5–£6.50).
CHRISTMAS FOR TWO Variable sketch show of audacious surrealism ●●●●● DANIEL SLOSS Ridiculously talented young comedy buck ●●●●●
CAREY MARX The thinking man’s shock jock ●●●●●
L A V I T S E F
This sketch duo’s Friends with You starts with a rape joke. The way they treat the topic that has become a shibboleth of contemporary comedy is a statement of purpose, signalling their intent to sidle up against the profane, nudge things into the hyperbolic, and verge on the surreal. Their mixed bag succeeds best when that pattern is followed: a poor choice in birthday present is attributed to the downfall of a friendship; two Tenerife holiday reps crack and expose the depths of their misery.
The routines tend to fall down when the
performers rely on easy laughs but when they strive for far-flung twists, the sketches achieve the right balance of kooky and cringeworthy. Comprised of Sarah Campbell and Amy Hoggart,
the two have a seamless relationship. Campbell disappears completely into each character, while Hoggart undercuts her cuteness with a dead-eyed stare to create some of the darker moments. The finale is a masterpiece in awkwardness, proving that the more audacious their risks, the more auspicious the reward. (Suzanne Black) ■ The Caves, 556 5375, until 28 Aug, 4.55pm, £6.50.
36 THE LIST 18–25 Aug 2011
Daniel Sloss – a charming, elongated Macaulay Culkin doppelganger, and protégé of Frankie Boyle – begins by listing the reasons why people might not like his show. ‘I smile, I swear, I’m happy and I can jump. The ones who won’t like me, they’re the old people.’ But old is an attitude, insists the 20-year- old Fifer, now three full Fringe shows into his career. The same folks may also dislike Sloss for being staggeringly confident onstage but he reins in any child-star precocity and cockiness with a deftness for very entertaining self-abuse. His ‘prick haircut’, failure to tan and ‘inability to satisfy his girlfriend’ get big laughs, as does his description of himself as a ‘20-year-old paedophile’ after interacting slightly too informally with a 13-year-old boy in the front row.
The past year has seen Sloss audition for the Lord of the Rings film and do gigs in Australia, so dealings with fame provide fresh material, as do his family, who he still lives with in East Wemyss. Age gimmicks aside, Sloss is just a very natural comedian. Being easy-going, quick on your feet, and totally relaxed with the crowd: that never gets old. (Claire Sawers) ■ Assembly George Square, 623 3030, until 29 Aug, 7.35pm, £11.50–£13.50 (£10–£11).
Middle-aged and feeling decrepit and pointless, Carey Marx believes in speaking his sordid little mind. Opinions on clitoral stimuli, fat people who stop suddenly in the street, feminists and circumcision-revenge-rabbi-rape spill easily from his cherubic potty mouth. Marx is cleverer than most and he never takes the easy route in his comedy. This year’s show, Laziness and Stuff, comes from a place where grumpiness is tempered by intellectual alacrity. He’s the cleverest kid at school who stayed living with his overbearing mum for a little too long, knowing full well that he can win any argument he gets into, but is ultimately overwhelmed by what little effect it will have.
Guiding the audience from the lifts of Dubai’s Burj Khalifa tower to his recalcitrant grasp of his own inner Jew, there’s a lot to enjoy here amongst the filth and creative ferment. Marx feels like a stand-up whose well will never run dry with the diatribes coming thick and fast. He’s also fearless and, like a dishevelled Jimmy Carr, callously outrageous and extremely good with hecklers. This show still needs some tightening up but it’s almost there. (Paul Dale) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 28 Aug, 10.15pm, £8–£9.50 (£7–£8.50).