list.co.uk/festival Reviews | FESTIVAL COMEDY
Y H P A R G O T O H P E V R A C
KAI HUMPHRIES Salt-of-the-earth stand-up ●●●●● LEAD PENCIL A bubbly sketch show ●●●●●
LLOYD LANGFORD Eejits of the world unite ●●●●●
Kai Humphries considers himself to be shameless and not, as he points out, in the sense that he’s from the Geordie equivalent of the Chatsworth Estate. Instead, he means that he’s prone to being a bit naughty. But really, he appears to be a genuinely nice fella who just gets things wrong every once in a while.
The hour starts off a touch on the laddish side, with material about how he wishes his mates were there when he’s on holiday with his girlfriend, but never the other way around, largely because she possesses the wrong footwear for volcano adventures.
But the salt-of-the-earth Humphries slowly reveals
his sensitive side, discussing how we could all learn a thing or two from the outlook of his Down’s Syndrome mate and why the Pamplona bull run gave him a whole new lease of life. His mum too, comes in for some well-deserved hero worship, as well as a bif of gentle ribbing. Technically, Humphries really knows his stuff with
call-backs aplenty and he’s in possession of a terrific denouement with that bull run story. (Marissa Burgess) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 26 Aug, 8.45pm, £10–£12 (£7.50–£9.50).
Lead Pencil are the Portlandia of the Fringe. Like the US cult TV comedy, the trio of Louise Beresford, Maddie Rice and Dave Bibby have chosen to pitch their hour as being rooted in the 1990s.
But, like the Fred Armisen and Carrie Brownstein show, these period-related foundations are somewhat shaky and the audience might soon be left wondering what on earth this sketch here and that skit over there have got to do with that bygone decade, rather than just enjoying them for what they are.
The concept here seems limited to the show’s
scene-changing soundtrack (Oasis and Hanson for example), which amounts to not being a concept at all. Once you dispel those thoughts from your mind, there are some fine moments to be enjoyed, such as the song about trying to carry on without your precious iPhone and learning your ABCs, hip-hop style.
The overly fussy diners sketch (oops, Portlandia there again) and the Southern states survival guide don’t work quite so well, but there is a confident and endearing quality to Lead Pencil that keeps the hour bubbling along nicely. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 26 Aug, 1.30pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7.50–£8.50).
He’s not much of a Jessie J fan is Lloyd Langford. It’s not the music he’s less than enamoured with but her ongoing statements in the press that she would shave her head for charity, only for her life to continue for many months with her barnet intact. Movember is another thing that makes the Welsh comic bristle, but at the root of it all, there doesn’t appear to be a single shred of malice in Langford’s soul.
Coming on dressed in a casual banana-style outfit
(after a short while you forget how bizarrely attired he actually is), Langford is in town to talk about the numerous eejits and muppets of the world (the show is entitled Galoot): some examples include a masturbating Parisian and the pro wrestler who fought a bear. Ultimately, the comedian comes across as the
biggest galoot of them all, one story of him chasing some errant German schoolchildren from the Imperial War Museum being a particular highlight. An hour in the company of Lloyd Langford is a friendly place to be and it might even make you feel slightly better about your own imperfections. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 26 Aug, 9.30pm, £10.50–£11.50 (£9–£10).
RICHARD HERRING A delirious exploration of death ●●●●●
‘22 fucking years’. That’s how long Richard Herring has been heading up to Edinburgh with plays and stand-up shows, and while he might come across as sounding a little begrudging that he makes this annual trek north, he clearly still loves it. And after two-and-a-bit decades of tackling weighty issues (sex, ageing, love, religion, facial hair), he’s getting stuck into the biggest one of them all: death.
Herring’s stage is deliciously decked out like a graveyard late
at night, all billowing smoke and stony tributes to the deceased, and he immediately reveals his big hope for the month: that the Duke of Edinburgh and / or Nelson Mandela don’t expire before his run is over so he can continue with his opening routine. In other comedy hands, the phrase ‘don’t speak ill of the dead’
would provide a joke or two; in Herring’s mitts, it careers off into several elongated and increasingly hysterical (yet logically argued) minutes. Add in a borderline bit about 9/11, increasingly delirious line-by-line analyses of ‘The Old Woman Who Swallowed a Fly’ and Hamlet’s legendary suicidal soliloquy, plus the annual dig at his former showbiz partner Stewart Lee, and you have a fantastic hour of Fringe stand-up.
One thing that’s certain with a Herring show is that it’s
never just desperately cobbled together to beat a Fringe print deadline. His research and reading around a subject is clearly exhaustive, and the jokes come from this forensic exploration of a topic. Given the passion for his craft and the care with which he shapes a brand new hour every year, it would be perfectly understandable if it left him spent and frustrated. For Edinburgh audiences, a new Richard Herring show is a never-ending cause for delight. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 25 Aug, 8pm, £12–£14 (£11–£12).
22 Aug–19 Sep 2013 THE LIST 107