FESTIVAL COMEDY REVIEWS AT A GLANCE

And Now for a Nice Evening with Wallan ●●●●● You will leave none the wiser about who or what Wallan is, but assured that Lou Sanders is quite probably totally off her chump. In the same room in which Penny Spubbs once tore up a surreal storm, Sanders carries on the flame by fishing for compliments (almost literally), overseeing a tiny trolley dash and ending with a failed immolation. (Brian Donaldson) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 15), 9.30pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8–£9). BEASTS ●●●●● Three very smart young men deliver one of the slickest sketch shows of this year’s Fringe. Polo- necked, be-suited and bow-tied in turn, they open up with a po-faced, stylised but nevertheless comedic dance routine that makes you wonder if it’s all going to be a bit style over substance. But no, it’s just as neat and tidy in substance too. (Marissa Burgess) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 27 Aug (not 14), 2.15pm, £8–£9 (£7–£8). The Blanks ●●●●● George, Paul, Sam and Philip are best known as nervy lawyer Ted’s a capella quartet from Scrubs. Combining stand-up, sketches and frankly impressive singing, they frequently riff on their celebrity and include a cover of Lazlo Bain’s ‘Superman’. The real power comes in the finish, where it’s worth stamping your feet for a pop-themed encore that stole the show. (Jen Bowden) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 27 Aug (not 14, 23), 9.30pm, £12–£14 (£9.50–£12). The Boom Jennies ●●●●● The BJs are three accomplished performers with great chemistry and good timing. What lets them down here are a poor script and weak punchlines. Each sketch features three middle-class women blustering around and politely remonstrating with one another, and the whole thing finishes on such a damp squib that one of the girls had to explain, ‘that really is it’. (Murray Robertson) Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 13), 10.45pm, £11–£12 (£9–£10). Catriona Knox ●●●●● Particularly impressive in this character show is a routine performed entirely in a language that seems to be a bastardised combination of German and Italian sounding words yet strangely we grasp what she’s going on about. There’s plenty of invention here, a highlight being a lovely, absurd sketch of a precocious four-year-old’s first day at school. Promising stuff. (Marissa Burgess) Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 27 Aug (not 13), 5.40pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9). Charlie Baker ●●●●● Exploding out of the blocks like Michael McIntyre after a parma violet binge, Freshly Baked causes the audience members’ emotions to flitter between moments of slight irritation to sustained periods of downright annoyance. While an overzealous onstage persona is part of the act with Baker identifying his solid and loving upbringing as the source of his unrelenting confidence, it doesn’t take long to wear thin. (Jamie Cameron) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 13), 7.15pm, £10–£11 (£8.50–£9.50). Chris Brain●●●●● Kiwi comic Brain quietly steps onto the stage with an enchantingly frank show, drawn and sampled all the way from his Christchurch boyhood to his love of cocaine. Brain offers not only a flavour of New Zealand’s cultural traditions but a guileless dissection of his life. It’s a shame that he lets himself down with some misplaced jokes, flattening the whimsical storytelling he so finely engages us with. (Andrew Latimer) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 27 Aug (not 14, 21), 5.45pm, £8.50– £9.50 (£7.50–£8.50). 56 THE LIST 9–16 Aug 2012

Chris McCausland ●●●●● A comment at a party last year ‘You’re not blind enough’ - struck McCausland hard and he got to thinking about disability, and his ‘own place within the universe’. The resulting show is more thoughtful, angry and challenging than he’s previously produced. He dwells lengthily on the ethical dilemmas surrounding disability and drives a coach and horses through the concept of the Paralympics, sending us away with plenty food for thought. (Peggy Hughes) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 14), 4.30pm, £11–£12 (£9.50–£11). Claudia O’Doherty ●●●●● The frenetic Aussie’s borderline hysterical show begins with her telling all about her indoctrination into a cult-like comedy school called The Nuthouse, where she was brainwashed into becoming a stand-up. What comes across as a complete mess is, of course, carefully orchestrated chaos as we whizz along on a bewildering trip. (Miles Fielder) Underbelly, Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 26 Aug (not 13), 7.45pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9). Craig Hill ●●●●● Hill either is your bag or he isn’t. If you’re laughing uproariously at the mere implication of the word ‘bum’ (as a verb), then you’re in the former camp. If not, things aren’t going to get better over the coming hour. In his world, all grannies keep budgies, all gay men are bitchy, aggressively camp and anally fixated, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, worse than being from Kirkcaldy. (Laura Ennor) Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 27 Aug (not 13, 20), 7.30pm, £12.50–£14.50 (£11–£13). Damien Crow ●●●● The creation of lauded Scottish comedian Chris Forbes, Crow is an unexpectedly endearing character, with exactly the kind of sulkiness and lack of perspective you might expect from a doomy teenager. The contrast between his evidently caring family and his sense that he has been personally wronged by the world is funny and familiar but can’t quite sustain this hour. (Yasmin Sulaiman) Assembly Rooms, 0844 693 3008, until 26 Aug (not 13), 4pm, £10 (£9). Dan Mitchell ●●●●● Welsh comedian Mitchell performed on Show Me the Funny, and here, his material feels a bit bland and static with a host of flat punchlines loosely tied to the idea of being sick and tired. The most successful deliveries are in the absurd detours with angry seagulls and some well engineered pit-stops of audience participation. (Andrew Latimer) Assembly Roxy, 623 3030, until 27 Aug (not 14), 10.30pm, £9.50–£12 (£8–£10.50). Danny Buckler ●●●●● Born and raised in Woking, Buckler details the trials of growing up in a town that is less than welcoming to those pursuing a life as a performer. Portraying himself as something of an arts connoisseur, he pulls parallels between his own life experiences and The Phantom of the Opera, depicting tales of lost love and heartbreak. Intelligently written and delivered in style. (Jamie Cameron) The Caves, 556 5375, until 26 Aug (not 14), 9.20pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9). Danny McLoughlin ●●●●● McLoughlin promises two things: the first is that he will examine the role of ‘enhancing’ the truth for comedic effect. The second is an admission that not all of what he says during the next hour will be true. What follows is a vaguely connected series of potentially apocryphal tales, anecdotes and scenarios that gently amuse. (Suzanne Black) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 27 Aug (not 14), 8.30pm, £9.50–£12 (£8–£10.50). Darkness Rising ●●●●● Comedy and horror might seem like unlikely bedfellows but when you get it right it

can be an inspired mix of pitch black humour and creeping dread. Heretical Productions deliver a series of Satanic murders, which lead Inspector Thompson to a creepy Cotswold village populated by inbred yokels, a demon-slaying vicar and a coven, but a few cheesy jokes and clichés take the edge off. (Henry Northmore) Carlton Hotel, 0845 557 6308, until 25 Aug (not 12, 19), 9.10pm, £7 (£5). Dave McNeill ●●●●● McNeill works hard as he describes a journey to China in a canoe, with the plot falling into the category of ‘wacky adventures’ and continuing in the vein of the profoundly silly. Going for every joke, from waving his arms around apropos of nothing to repeating slightly funny- sounding words, he ends up paddling around on-stage looking marginally demented. (Suzanne Black) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 14), 3.30pm, £8–£10 (£7–£9). David Longley ●●●●● So tainted is Longley’s past, the northern Englishman has been warned never to set foot in Liverpool again. Ever the pessimist, Longley doesn’t shy away from expressing his cynical views towards a variety of issues while all the time painting himself in the best possible light, and displays an aptitude at gleaning comedy from the most unlikely of places. (Jamie Cameron) The Stand II, 558 7272, until 26 Aug (not 13), 4.40pm, £8 (£7). Des Clarke ●●●●● It’s quite probable that Clarke has the longest comedy script in Edinburgh, given that he rarely pauses for breath in one hour of extremely pleasing stand-up. Helped, not hindered, by a fractious crowd, he mixes natural bonhomie with some lovely storytelling, spoiled only by the odd tired sequence: how can anyone still be doing jokes about the Glasgow Airport terrorist attack? (Brian Donaldson) Assembly George Square, 623 3030, until 27 Aug (not 14), 8pm, £13–£14 (£11–£12). Diane Spencer ●●●●● Diane Spencer is very rude. We know that because she tells us she’s rude, calls her show Exquisite Bad Taste and backs it all up by launching into the most scatological opening ten minutes seen on the Fringe since, well, probably her debut last year. Beyond the filth, there’s not a huge amount going on and her warm stage presence can only sustain interest so far. (Brian Donaldson) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6252, until 26 Aug (not 13), 5pm, £10 (£9). FNT Live ●●●●● At the start of this doomed sketch affair, there are more people on stage than in the crowd. Given that FNT features ten members, that’s not as cringeworthy as it sounds. Asides from a nicely delivered routine about haddock, they pour out a largely hammy set of barely passable skits about Jedward, the confessional and Star Trek, before the promised climax of Armageddon. Unfortunately, it never arrives. (Brian Donaldson) C aquila, 0845 260 1234, until 27 Aug (not 13), 8.15pm, £8.50–£10.50 (£6.50–£8.50). Garrett Millerick ●●●●● The last thing festival audiences want is to sit in a cramped, boiling hot venue and have a comic shout at them. Millerick lashes out at young people, Facebook and twattish executive types who have closed the door to previous opportunities. The show descends into tedium after he delivers too many of the stories the same way: loudly. (Andrew Latimer) Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 27 Aug (not 15), 11pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7.50–£8.50). Graham Rex ●●●●● This four-piece sketch show holds great promise. Despite being Fringe rookies, much of their show is made up of measured, intelligent humour. A few references are a bit ‘youth’ but elsewhere they show a wider knowledge with a lovely ‘topical’ sketch and a deconstruction of Mitt Romney’s policies. It’s inventive too, with a surreal skit featuring Boutros Boutros Ghali and a chain of philosopher’s teachings. (Marissa Burgess) Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 27 Aug (not 14), 12.10pm, £8–£9 (£7–£8). Guilt & Shame ●●●●● It’s a big night on the pull for debauched duo Guilt & Shame. Gabe (Guilt) is the slaggy one, ready to meet the girl of his dreams, and Rob (Shame) is a gay virgin gagging to get laid. There’s chair dancing and shouting along to the music, supplied by a DJ in the corner, the house raucous with an eagerness to embrace Guilt and Shame, to squirm and guffaw in recognition. (Peggy Hughes) Underbelly, Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 26 Aug (not 13, 20), 11.45pm, £8–£9.50 (£7–£8.50). Intimate Strangers ●●●●● Surely this is what the Fringe is all about: badly acted, poorly written, horribly unfunny sketch after sketch (a grandad doing rap, a TV chef getting increasingly drunk, you know the kind of thing) until a gloriously dull spoof musical heralds the not-before-time finale. (Brian Donaldson) The Caves, 556 5375, until 26 Aug (not 14), 3.15pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7.50–£8.50). Jim Campbell ●●●●● On the wrong side of 25 and facing the less exciting parts of contemporary life (mortgages, babies, failed dreams of being a rock star), Campbell muses on the themes of growing up and assuming responsibility. His ability to juggle a plethora of comedy styles, each performed with consummate skill, and get them working harmoniously in a tightly arranged show sets him apart. (Suzanne Black) Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 27 Aug (not 14), 7pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9). Joel Dommett ●●●●● Dommett returns with an outstanding new routine in which he discusses in fine detail his trials and tribulations of trying to get even with a school bully after the perpetrator contacts him via Twitter. Sighting muggings and lost love in his formative years as evidence of his cowardice, Dommett showcases a deeply charismatic onstage persona. The intelligence and versatility on display makes this an enthralling, laugh-a-minute show. (Jamie Cameron) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug, 8.15pm, £10–£12 (£8.50–£10.50). John Robertson ●●●●● The surreal storytelling, flitting between anecdotes like an Antipodean Jackanory- era Rik Mayall, dressed as a baroque bumblebee, is just a backdrop for Robertson’s careering whimsy. He barrels from one flash of inspiration (crowdsurfing!) to another (it’s too hot: let’s all go outside!). I can’t tell you what’ll happen when you go to see him but take a chance on it, and god only knows which hilarious anecdote you’ll end up starring in. (Charlotte Runcie) Assembly Hall, 623 3030, until 26 Aug, 10.15pm, £5. Josh Widdicombe ●●●●● If this fast-rising funnyman is feeling any pressure from last year’s Best Newcomer Nomination, he barely shows it. His pace and delivery are well-executed, no sooner are your shoulders twitching at one observation, another loosely linked segment brings more chuckling. Observational humour abounds, Widdicombe’s chatty ponderings and rueful rants on cereals, cash points, Michelin stars and board games giving even the most trivial of subjects a comedy kick. (Anna Millar) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 13, 23), 7pm, £11–£12 (£9.50–£10.50). Kaput ●●●●● A beautiful, child- friendly mime show from Tom Flanagan in which he gets trapped inside a ladder, accidentally tears open a cinema screen, has his head lodged in a bucket of ‘glue’