LIST.CO.UK/FESTIVAL Reviews {COMEDY}
TOM ROSENTHAL A very funny and innovative debut about privilege ●●●●●
At around the halfway point in Tom Rosenthal’s debut show, he applies the brake and settles into a gorgeous little homage to one of his comedy idols, Stewart Lee. Around him, some of the crowd are not entirely sure what’s going on as he seems trapped in a maddening vortex where over and over again, he mimics a slow-motion dart-thrower, quietly providing commentary to his action. On the PowerPoint backdrop, an explanation is offered to the bamboozled among his audience and soon we move back to the swift-paced material about what it means to come from privilege.
In Tom Rosenthal’s case, this was as the son of a famous
British sports presenter, Jim Rosenthal. In a quite bizarre fluke of Pleasance scheduling, the act immediately prior to this one is Welsh comic Elis James, who dedicates around one-third of his own show to talking about the discomfort he felt in meeting one of his childhood heroes; yep, you guessed it, Jim Rosenthal. There’s no doubt who has the more substantial raw material of course, and Rosenthal Jnr is able to tear into his dad for his hyperbolic summarising style and for stubbornly pursuing a claim against Heston Blumenthal in the wake of the Fat Duck norovirus furore (the battle of the ‘Enthals’, as Tom dubs it). But most courageously of all, he plunges headlong into the race row when Rosenthal Snr ill- advisedly used the phrase ‘spear-chucker’ about Tessa Sanderson, the black British javelin thrower. Rosenthal has certainly come to Edinburgh determined to
make a splash, filling his Attic space with a plethora of props and people, including a homeless guy and his ‘butler’ Leonard, here to help out with housekeeping and throw in some inane Facebook status updates from one of Rosenthal’s mortal enemies. A bravura and very funny debut show which should make dad feel very proud, once the cringing has subsided. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 29 Aug, 9.30pm, £9.50- £12 (£8-£10.50).
LEE CAMP Rabble-rousing American gets mad at current affairs ●●●●●
TOBY Divisive duo spark a riot of tutting and scowling ●●●●● BENNY BOOT The secrets of comedy remain a mystery here ●●●●●
Lee Camp aims his freewheeling cannon at all the aspects of American (and Western) culture that are easy to criticise: childhood obesity, people who believe in aliens, sweatshops, war as big business, the moon landings, the death penalty, corporate irresponsibility and Starbucks’ daft cake names.
And, boy, is that lucky for us. Camp’s ire manifests itself as an attack on all he thinks is wrong with the world. Avoiding self-righteousness and anger for their own sake, he winds his gripes into an impassioned argument, twisting words into barbs so awful you can’t help laugh, and then be impressed.
It’s hypocritical, of course, being intolerant of intolerance. It is similarly contradictory that nothing he talks about is funny – quite the opposite. The natural response would be to look at the current state of the world and weep. Camp’s response, which is very, very funny, in no way compromises his condemnation of real problems. Rather, he galvanises audiences with his call to arms. After Camp has conquered comedy there could well be a career in politics ahead. (Suzanne Black) ■ The Stand III & IV, 558 7272, until 28 Aug, 11.45pm, £8 (£7).
If this performance of Toby’s Lucky was set in front of a focus group, clear scientific findings would have been concluded. The semi-surreal double act are loved by blokes in their early 20s and loathed by fortysomething women. At one point, metaphorical daggers were being aimed at one lad who had the temerity to chuckle at a scene of faked suicide. Granted, the moment was barely hilarious but nor did it warrant a touchy madam getting all uppity. In tone and style, Toby have been ripped from the
corpse of Penny Spubbs with sisters Sarah and Lizzie Daykin performing a story which we can only hope is not reflective of their real-life power struggles. Lizzie is the permanently huffy sibling while Sarah is the annoying, attention-seeking one who may or may not be the parents’ favourite. They bicker and undermine each other’s efforts, and while this threatens to get wearing, there’s always a moment to brighten proceedings. Having impressed at the Free Fringe last year, the pair’s career seems on a relentlessly upward trajectory. Not sure the tutting lady would agree though. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 29 Aug, 4pm, £11–£12 (£9.50–£11).
F E S T I V A L
When you set yourself up as a stand-up who has nailed the fundamentals of comedy structure, you are setting yourself up for one mighty fall. And Benny Boot plummets without trace during this show. The crowd is welcomed in by his South African character Walter Montgomery, the ‘Black Mamba’ of comedy whose signature is to do a snakey thing with his hands when he is about to unveil a comedy secret.
There’s a cute bit about different microphones
being designed for various comedic genres, but by then we await the real comedian beneath the bad wig with anticipation. After five minutes of Aussie Benny Boot, you might wish he had just kept the silly hair on. There’s a jittery, Mitch Hedberg-like innocence about Boot, but while at his peak the dead Minnesotan piled up blazingly funny one-liners, an audience has to wade through a dozen or more Bootisms before stepping on a joke of any worth. Boot’s nervousness translates itself into giggling at
nearly every gag, but while that can be endearing, when the laughs are largely his own it soon becomes distracting and irritating. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 29 Aug (not 22), 9.45pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8).
18–25 Aug 2011 THE LIST 41