FESTIVAL COMEDY REVIEWS AT A GLANCE
Alan Francis ●●●●● Francis opens with a light-hearted look back at recent times as he bemoans his recent weight gain, divulges his witness account of a bar fight in London’s east end and discusses at length his reluctance to accept anything that resembles new- age technology. Eventually arriving upon the subject of modern politics, he reaches top gear and as his fury heightens so too does the comedy value of the show. (Jamie Cameron) Gilded Balloon at Third Door, 622 6552, until 26 Aug (not 20), 8.15pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9). Alistair Barrie ●●●●● Now in his tenth year as a professional comic, Barrie’s material feels fresh and his stage presence uninhibited, despite the stylised, buttoned-up appearance. Swiping through swathes of usual comedian fodder, the besuited self-ironiser has a refreshing take on everything from Berlusconi to breast-feeding, and excellent audience chemistry. He may have turned 40 (or fogey), but there’s life in the old boy yet. (Phoebe Cooke) Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 26 Aug, 6.50pm, £9.50–£11 (£8.50–£10). Andrew Maxwell ●●●●● A Maxwell show is never less than endearing, but this year’s affair feels a little like water-treading as the Dublin clown discusses his three favourite nationalities: the Irish, Scots and Americans. That’s the Spirit is a round- up of the year’s news with plenty of decent stuff about the Olympics and racism in football, but it feels as though he’s in (his own) overly familiar territory with a US rednecks routine. (Brian Donaldson) Assembly George Square, 623 3030, until 27 Aug, 9.05pm, £15–£16 (£14–£15). Armageddapocalypse ●●●●● Armageddapocalypse takes spoof to new levels, blasting it through the air with one-liners and quick-fire sketches, before machine-gunning it to pieces with satire and sarcasm. The four-man cast is impossible to fault with their impeccable comedic timing and knockout characterisation, using seemingly endless energy to bring the script about a plot to blow up the world to life. (Jen Bowden) Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 27 Aug, 9.30pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8). Asher Treleaven ●●●●● Treleaven breaks down his life via the principles of Edward de Bono’s theory of Six Thinking Hats so we get a pleasing insight into this Australian comedian’s life from his complex relationships with various father figures to his time as a giant cookie mascot. There are a couple of great gags and the structure keeps the pace moving, including a saucy demo of circus skills, however some of the punchlines need to be stronger. (Henry Northmore) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 26 Aug, 4.30pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8.50–£9.50). The Beta Males ●●●●● It’s 1969 and there’s Secret Service machinations afoot to make sure the first man on the moon is an Englishman. A small village and its eccentric inhabitants become involved when a rocket crash lands on a neighbouring hamlet. The bright-eyed offspring of The League of Gentlemen and The Mighty Boosh, The Beta Males are four talented young comic actors with a need to spin a good yarn and pack a satirical punch. (Paul Dale) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 27 Aug, 5.45pm, £10–£11 (£8–£9). The Boy With Tape On His Face ●●●●● The Boy is back this year with an equally formidable collection of games, gags and gambits, all meticulously planned and ingeniously constructed. It is an utterly immersive experience which slaps a big fat grin on your face; wholly life-affirming, rewarding and innovative. 44 THE LIST 16–23 Aug 2012
attempts at surrealism that fall utterly flat. (Kirstyn Smith) Surgeons Hall, 0845 508 8515, until 25 Aug (not 19), 9.50pm, £7.50. Dan Wright ●●●●● At 32 years old and still pining for the King of Pop, Wright takes us on a trip down memory lane, from childhood to the present day as a hardened fan, via those awkward, bullied teenage years. His obsession with Michael Jackson led to all kinds of japes: defiant moonwalking, how he hoped a Page 3 girl could help him in his campaign for Jacko’s innocence, spinning amusing yarns out of entries in his Jackson scrapbook. (Peggy Hughes) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 26 Aug, 9.30pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9). David Trent ●●●●● This schoolteacher has come to the Fringe with plenty of hype behind him but his multi-media Spontaneous Comedian is a befuddling affair. You know someone is in trouble when he constantly refers to jokes usually getting bigger laughs but what can you expect when you’re using X Factor clips as the source for some weak material? (Brian Donaldson) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 27 Aug, 10.45pm, £9.50–£12 (£8–£10.50). David Whitney ●●●●● Blasting his way onto the expectant stage with a hefty set of bagpipes, you could probably cite this loud start as the highlight of Whitney’s set. Meandering onto the well-travelled road of pedestrian comic fare, he began with banks, floundered with G-spots, and consistently tried and failed (out loud) to assess his audience. (Phoebe Cooke) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 27 Aug, 10.15pm, £10– £11 (£8.50–£9.50). DeAnne Smith ●●●●● With a cropped fringe and teenage indie get-up, Smith produces an adorably composed and disarming show, with characteristic flair and finesse. Her impish persona is not to overshadow many near the knuckle stories and songs; instead it qualifies them and allows her to get away with even more. Though she may play the angel, there’s a devilish levity at the root of all DeAnne Smith says. (Andrew Latimer) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 27 Aug, 7.30pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9). Denis Krasnov ●●●●● Russian- American comedian Krasnov is hardcore. With his abrasive confrontational style he’s not for faint-hearted. Delusionally pitching himself somewhere between a shock jock and a Hegelian philosopher, Krasnov manages to be both relaxed and awkward. Heavily-accented and given to outbursts of wallpaper-stripping obscenity this feels more like detention than an entertainment. (Paul Dale) The Caves, 556 5375, until 26 Aug, 11.45pm, £7–£9. Denise Scott ●●●●● A jovial fiftysomething Aussie who is making her Fringe debut despite being ‘incredibly famous’ back home, Scott is at her best when bantering with her audience, some of which appeared a little too willing to share here. But that’s what Scott does: she gets her crowd so onside to the point that the weaker elements of her show about life’s regrets are forgiven amid a tsunami of goodwill. (Brian Donaldson) Assembly Hall, 623 3030, until 26 Aug, 6.30pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8.50–£9.50). Des Bishop ●●●●● Testicular cancer survivor and recovering alcoholic, Bishop has a tendency to look towards the tragi-comedic side of life, but his affable, conversational attitude makes it easy to laugh along with him about his father’s funeral and his chequered past. He yoyos from centre stage, where he delivers profanity-riddled rants, and a shambolic but ultimately very funny rap battle with himself about middle class life and organic food. (Kirstyn Smith) Assembly George Square, 623 3030, until 26 Aug (not 20), 8.50pm, £11–£12 (£9.50–£10.50).
THE SILKY PAIR
Graduating from appearing at the Free Fringe last year, comedy duo Kathryn Bond and Lorna Shaw set up shop for 2012, selling a mix of silly songs and sketches. Some routines start strong but the show needs more pace and polish. ■ The Caves, 556 5375, until 26 Aug, 3.25pm, £6 (£5).
(Andrew Latimer) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 27 Aug, 9.40pm, £12.50– £13.50 (£10–£11). Bruce Hammers’ Bananapocalypse ●●●●● Relative newcomer Mat Ewins ‘stars’ as Bruce Hammers, the 1980s film legend who had a brief stint as the fourth Doctor Who with a home-made dog companion made of sex aids, an appearance on Desert Island Discs and the time he missed out on an Oscar to his co-star The Bridge: that’s an actual bridge. Ewins/Hammers is a charming and endearing presence and the whole piece is full of knockabout humour even if it all makes little sense. (Marissa Burgess) The Caves, 556 5375, until 26 Aug, 3.35pm, £5–£6. Caimh McDonnell ●●●●● With his megaphone at the ready, the self- confessed Father Ted lookalike takes us on a journey from smutty books and Irish Catholic mothers to Manchester riots and naked men: a recent zoo trip complete with some casual accidental racism garnering the biggest laugh of this, well-priced tea-time hour. The 18+ age restriction seems a little overanxious for a show that sharpens its knife but never quite sticks it in. (Anna Millar). The Tron, 556 5375, until 26 Aug, 6.20pm, £6–£7. Carl Donnelly ●●●●● Beginning with a slide-show (before he gets on stage) of his home-made autobiography cover and jokey snaps of family and friends, it’s clear that here is someone not afraid to take the piss out of himself. Once on stage he endears himself to an already enthusiastic audience with self- deprecating wit, taking us on a journey through his misspent youth and hallowed future: the ‘book’ is written as if he was 40, not 30. (Phoebe Cooke) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug, 8.30pm, £10–£12 (£9–£11). Casual Violence ●●●●● Somewhat appropriate given their name (and a show title of A Kick in the Teeth), an acute sense of threat pervades each sketch such as the relentless Armistice Day campaigner flogging his stash of poppies, a less than clued-up US private investigator and a sinister robot literally slaughtering his opponents at Battleships. Their less-is-more strategy of returning to a sketch rather than writing more new ones is an admirable risk but one that doesn’t quite come off. (Brian Donaldson) The Caves, 556 5375, until 26 Aug (not 21), 10pm, £8 (£7). Catie Wilkins ●●●●● Wilkins’ show revolves around names and identity. She takes us through what it’s like to have ‘Joy’ as a middle name while not being a particularly smiley person. Mildly feminist and endearingly self-deprecating, Wilkins is the kind of stand-up that you’d never expect to start chatting about snaggletooth fellatio and AIDS, but when she does it’s hugely funny. (Jen Bowden) Underbelly, Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 26 Aug, 7.45pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8.50–£9.50). The Chris and Paul Show ●●●●● This north American comedy duo have got two very good things going for them: they’re pretty adept at performing silent comedy and they’re reminiscent of that great post-war double act Abbot and Costello. They’ve developed a nice big kid stage persona and they use that to quite charming effect. They just need to shape up their material. (Miles Fielder) The Caves, 556 5375, until 26 Aug, 8.40pm, £8–£9 (£7–£8). Chris Corcoran and Elis James: The Committee Meeting ●●●●● You can imagine that James and Corcoran’s small Welsh village committee meeting probably hinges on how up for it the audience are on any one day. We are the committee members after all. Items on the agenda include the mystery of the edible knickers and a Mastermind championship between Rex (James) and his nemesis, Vern the caretaker of the local conservative club. It’s certainly not the most slickly written show of the Fringe but it’s an absolute riot. (Marissa Burgess) Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 27 Aug, 1.30pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9). Colin Mars ●●●●● Life may have given Mars his fair share of lemons, but instead of making lemonade, a yawnworthy theme he continually comes back to, he’s squeezed the metaphorical citrus dry leaving nothing but a sour pulp. Nervous and sweaty, the three- strong audience presumably doing nothing for his wits, Mars stumbles through a set that swings erratically between entirely unoriginal fare and