FESTIVAL COMEDY | Reviews
ALEXEI SAYLE A masterclass from comedy pioneer ●●●●●
Without naming any names, a number of British comics who were big in the 80s and 90s have returned to the stand-up stage. Their comeback appearances merely proved that they made a wise move stopping in the first place. With this breath-taking hour, Alexei Sayle is nowhere near falling short and his wife Linda can rest assured that he’s far from ‘diluting the legacy’.
The 61-year-old is certainly not shy in naming names, and he gives it with both barrels to some familiar targets (the Tories, Ben Elton) and some surprising ones (the miners, Dizzee Rascal). The fire in the belly is still burning away and he reminisces without sentimentality on his showbiz career, from giving advice to Joan Collins about Marxism to being at a depressing after-show party with Lembit Opik.
‘A lot has changed since I invented alternative comedy’, he muses amusingly, before venting some spleen at the ‘war criminals’ who sit on TV panel shows, while his more playful, surrealist side comes to the fore when reconfiguring Charles Dickens as a camp Scouser propelled into the modern day and meeting up with literary bloggers.
The energy and passion are still wholly intact (as are the silly squeaky voices) and so demonstrative is his performance that he manages to split his trousers after one particularly physical routine. Sayle delivered some impressive work-in-progress shows in Scotland last autumn and much of the excellent material he showcased there has remained. He has simply refined the routines, clipping away any excess fat and thrown himself into a world-class performance. It’s fitting that many people will remember him from his role in The Young Ones for Alexei Sayle has returned to show all the upcoming wannabes exactly how this job should be done. (Brian Donaldson) ■ The Stand III & IV, 558 7272, until 25 Aug, 6pm, £12.
NICK HALL Promising debut in trying circumstances ●●●●● SLIGHTLY FAT FEATURES Ensemble buffoonery and a grand finale ●●●●●
ED BYRNE A master of the stand-up art lets rip ●●●●●
There are some spaces at the Fringe that really shouldn’t be used as venues, and this is one of them. There’s nothing but a vague partition to separate the show from the diners in this spot’s restaurant, while its main bar runs alongside the audience and all the menus live at the side of the ‘stage’. It says a lot about Nick Hall’s skills as a comic
that he overcomes such opposition to successfully deliver his show. He’s a confident performer who chooses to begin by wryly acknowledging the disadvantages of his venue – even managing to include the neighbouring diners in his audience chat at one point – before moving on to the meat. His debut hour is, unsurprisingly, concerned
with the story of his life so far, a chunk of it spent growing up in Watford. There are tales of adventures in Homebase, Virgin and Boots, and warnings of the dangers of running down dark alleyways on Christmas night. Hall’s talent lies in deriving a laugh from the very
ordinary, and while it might not be the most dynamic show at the Fringe, it still holds plenty promise for future glory. (Marissa Burgess) ■ Bristo Bar & Kitchen, 226 0000, until 24 Aug, 1.45pm, free.
100 THE LIST 22 Aug–19 Sep 2013
A coming together of circus skills, comedy and chaos, Slightly Fat Features strikes a bizarre balance between the brilliant and the banal. Maybe that’s the point, but you can’t help but think if they stuck to the former, it’d make for an even better show.
Host Goronwy Thom is a born showman, and everything he touches turns to gold, whether he’s engaging with the audience, juggling or performing the multitude of other skills at his disposal. But he’s also backed by an ensemble of multi-talented, acerbic, idiotic and downright ridiculous circus artistes, musicians and variety acts.
Between them they scale heights (cling-film escapology from the ceiling) and scrape barrels (a hammer and soft-toy routine). Highlights include an ingenious tiny cowboy, a very silly ‘find the lady’ trick, a scenario with flying plastic animals, and the mock bravado of tiger tamer Wayne Marvell.
The whole show rounds off with quite possibly the most brilliant closing tableaux at this year’s Fringe, which at first looks like an excuse for the ‘portly’ drummer to show off his tummy before turning into a stroke of genius. (Kelly Apter) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug, 5.50pm, £10–£13 (£11–£12).
By now, you know exactly what you’re getting with Ed Byrne: a slice of first-rate stand-up comedy that acts as an anchor of quality in the often choppy storm of the Fringe. ‘Since I’ve hit my 40s, I’ve felt the need to be a dick more often,’ he opens, commencing a perfectly sculpted hour of long-form storytelling and quickfire barbs about his sudden tendency for childish beh aviour and a total lack of patience for anyone who rubs him up the wrong way.
Roaring Forties acts as a snapshot of Byrne’s life: he’s now a father of two and doesn’t have time to fear the ageing process; indeed, he embraces his grumpy old bastard status with all due respect. Byrne is observational, certainly, but he mixes it all up with a bit of politics, a touch of satire, plus doses of self-deprecation and misanthropy in equal measure.
More than all that though, he is a master of this
game. As an Edinburgh Fringe stalwart and TV regular, his naturally funny, well-crafted and logical approach to joke-making is an opportunity to simply sit back and take in someone who really knows what they’re doing. (Kirstyn Smith) ■ EICC, 0844 847 1639, until 25 Aug, 9.20pm, £17.50–£19.50.