FESTIVAL COMEDY | Reviews at a Glance

Iain Stirling ●●●●● Twenty-five- year-old Stirling is having a mini identity crisis: he’s from Edinburgh originally, but has lived in London for years, so he drops in lots of ‘wicked’, ‘my man’ and ‘su’hin’, but also gets big laughs from localisms like ‘barry’ (from the Scots for excellent). Openly touting for telly work, he’s gifted enough in the gab department to stand a good chance of getting on there more. (Claire Sawers) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 25 Aug, 7.30pm, £8.50– £10 (£7–£9); Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, 9, 15 & 16, 22 & 23 Aug, 11.20pm, £8.50–£10 (£7–£9). It’s Me Dayne ●●●●● Socially awkward Dayne takes us on a journey into the ridiculous, often venturing into quite unnerving territory. From his own brand of twisted poetry and sordid storytelling to his disastrous childhood memories, we are able to gain a slightly uncomfortable yet amusing insight into the inner workings of this peculiar individual. Fear not though, as he comes equipped with a catalogue of feel good sing-a-long songs to help lighten the mood. (Katy Spry) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 26 Aug (not 12, 19), 7.45pm, £8. Joey Page ●●●●● Here is a rare beast on the comedy circuit, a unique presence in a world packed with observational comics who are failing to keep it real, what with all those jokes they keep telling. Page comes on dressed in a gaudy suit, a montage of many test cards and a painful hour snails by. (Brian Donaldson) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 13), 8.30pm, £8–£9.50 (£7.50–£8.50). KelFi & FiKel ●●●●● It all starts rather promisingly with the bawdy Australian duo sitting by the stage discussing their script as we take our seats. But they succeeded in undercutting a promising start by resorting to tedious repetition of all the bad words you can think of, with little rhyme, reason or point. A real shame given that the pair have a decent chemistry and are good performers. (Brian Donaldson) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 25 Aug (not 12), 9.30pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8.50–£9.50). Mark Dolan ●●●●● Dolan is an optimist and thinks that a lot of things in life are ‘awesome’ and he wants to enrich our lives by going through them with us in the hope we will leave uplifted. The majority of this show is him reading out from a list with little or no exploration of the themes and ideas. Whilst never actually being terrible it also never manages to be very good. (Gordon Eldrett) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 25 Aug (not 12), 7.45pm, £9–£10 (£7.50–£8.50). Mary Bourke ●●●●● Bourke confronts misogyny and uses her anger to fuel a thought-provoking hour. Mixing polemic with humour, she steers clear of stereotypes like dour dungaree-wearers and, without sacrificing her message, makes sure the laughs outweigh the rants. A couple of conceits ensure that those in the audience who aren’t card-carrying feminists are not left out. (Suzanne Black) The Stand III & IV, 558 7272, until 25 Aug (not 12), 5.50pm, £8 (£7). Max and Ivan ●●●●● In this sketch parody of a college reunion, the duo play a whole host of roles at the same time in this quick-fire performance. Like herring vodka, some of the characters in this sketch are an acquired taste, and the show begins to drag from the middle, with the same characters recurring, often bringing the same gags with them. (Rebecca Ross) Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 25 Aug (not 13), 8.20pm, £9–£12.50 (£8–£10). Michael J Dolan ●●●●● What’s billed as a no-nonsense dose of misanthropy turns out to be merely a vacillating moan, its light tone and stumbling dialogue making you feel that even Dolan isn’t convinced by his peevish persona. Despite his lack of resolve, Dolan is certainly a likeable and 56 THE LIST FESTIVAL 8–15 Aug 2013

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endearing nihilist. Perhaps he should give positivity a go. (Rebecca Ross) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 25 Aug (not 12), 4pm, £8–£9 (£7–£8). Mikey Avern ●●●●● This is a fast- paced educational hour where Avern shares his political views, focusing mainly on the state of financially- impaired modern-day Britain and what the future holds for us. Unfortunately, his quick delivery means it’s easy to miss parts. Avern is like a passionate and slightly nutty Professor giving a lecture with the help of his trusty PowerPoint presentation featuring some intentionally naff slides. (Katy Spry) Just the Tonic at Bristo Square, 556 5375, until 17 Aug (not 13), 9.30pm, £4–£5. Milton Jones ●●●●● If you think that stand-up should have some proper, actual jokes in it, then Jones is for you. A stream of quality one-liners can potentially be a bit wearing after a full hour, and occasional forays into observational humour are not the show’s strongest moments. The wild-haired Jones is actually at his best when straying into surreal asides and bizarrely original vignettes: bamboo is a recurring theme, and there’s an inspired sequence with an overhead projector. (Charlotte Runcie) Assembly Hall, 623 3030, until 14 Aug, 7.30pm, £16.50. Miracles Etc ●●●●● At the top of the show, Pete Heat jigs into the room, ties us up in red wool and declares the creation of Peteopia - a new land with a skinny dictator at its helm. His magic tricks are polished while his presentation has a nervy, goofy edge. Tidied up a bit, it could well become his gimmick rather than giving the feeling that he hasn’t got as much confidence in his tricks as we have. (Marissa Burgess) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 26 Aug, 8.15pm, £10–£12 (£8.50–£10). The Noise Next Door ●●●●● The five-man improv juggernaut host, look after and perform at a haphazard variety club called the Soundhouse. The staff are obsessed with elephants or half- woman, half-buffalo creations while the performers sex-obsessed hypnotist, Australian explorer, Blazin’ Squad- esque boyband flit from act to act with unrelenting energy. The Noise Next Door are so sharp that it is actually tough to keep up. (Kirstyn Smith) Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 14), 7pm, £11–£14 (£9–£12). Paul Currie ●●●●● From the Tony Law school of unhinged nonsense comes Currie, dressed in a natty three-piece suit and tottering about in sweltering late- night conditions before a bamboozled but amused crowd. You have a choice: go with the flow or sit in agony as the clock staggers round to the finishing post. The vast majority in attendance are well up for it, and wails of appreciative delirium greet each ludicrous twist and fantastical turn. (Brian Donaldson) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 13), 11pm, £8–£9.50 (£7.50–£8). Paul Zerdin ●●●●● Zerdin’s foils, a foul-mouthed perverted old man and a foul-mouthed, perverted school boy are fairly standard ventriloquist fare, but his interactions with them, and other off-stage characters, bring to light some seriously impressive moments. Zerdin throws his voice all over the room, leaving it increasingly difficult to bear in the mind that he is essentially having a four-way conversation with himself. Good fun and charming. (Kirstyn Smith) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 25 Aug (not 12), 8pm, £10.50–£12.50 (£9.50–£11). Rhys Nicholson ●●●●● Nicholson argues anything can be funny. It’s all up for grabs. Stay well clear if you’re easily offended as Nicholson’s full-frontal assault on awkward sexual happenstances, gay relationships and inner-anxiety is wickedly racy. He’s reintroduced and recycled jokes from 2009 onwards to trim what is now an almost perfectly timed routine, reeling against the anti-gay religious zealots who have condemned his sexuality. (Andrew Latimer) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 26 Aug (not 13), 10.45pm, £10.50–£11.50 (£9.50–£10.50). Rod Woodward ●●●●● No matter how hilarious your ‘funny mate down the pub’ is, would you want to sit and listen to them solidly for an entire hour? This is quite close to the feeling you have when Woodward approaches the end of his set and for all the chatty bantering he has had with the party of Bulgarians and the sports fans in the crowd, it’s all been a rather empty experience. (Brian Donaldson) Just the Tonic at The Caves,

556 5375, until 25 Aug (not 13), 6.20pm, £7–£8. Russ Powell ●●●●● Powell is blokey, but not laddy, so he orders his crowd to ‘strap in’, ‘do it’, and ‘get on it’ a few times in the show. He refers to his ‘missus’ and ask things like, ‘am I right lads?’ Whether it’s conscious or not, it’s hard to turn a deaf ear to the very Gervaisian delivery to a lot of Powell’s lines, which detracts from his otherwise confident and pally style. (Claire Sawers) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug, 10.45pm, £7.50–£9.50 (£6.50–£9). Sam Lloyd ●●●●● Running at 90 minutes, Fully Committed is a gentle comedy at a gentle pace, but it’s testament to Lloyd’s natural comedic verve that it still holds the attention throughout. In this one-man play, Sam plays Sam, the put-upon reservations clerk at an exclusive New York restaurant and all of his ridiculous callers. It’s an astonishingly intensive performance, as he snaps between personas and juggles imaginary phone lines without missing a beat. (Laura Ennor) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 25 Aug (not 13), 5.45pm, £11–£12.50 (£10–£11). Scott Agnew ●●●●● Dealing with his drink-happy crowd, Agnew explores why he’s such a luckless bastard, questioning why, unlike his mate Kevin Bridges, he’s not on telly. By posing such a question you leave yourself wide open to insult, but here it’s a fair point. Agnew is a hugely likeable host and the hour is full of engaging anecdotes about his love life and being a gay man in Glasgow. (Marissa Burgess) The Stand III & IV, 558 7272, until 25 Aug (not 12), 10.30pm, £8 (£7). Shane Mauss ●●●●● After a meandering opening about subways in Japan and toilets in Scotland, Mauss gets into his stride with some insightful material about the gender divide and pushes all the right buttons with his slaughtering of homophobia and misogyny. The more laddish aspects of himself have fun with routines about female genitalia and evolution, but his heart and conscience are always deep in the right place. (Brian Donaldson) Assembly George Square, 623 3030, until 25 Aug (not 12), 10.30pm, £11–£12 (£9.50–£10.50). Stephen Carlin ●●●●● Carlin’s slightly mumbling, hesitant delivery is part of his schtick as a surly, dysfunctional Scotsman, but often in this show the hesitations just feel downright awkward as he visibly aches for a reaction beyond polite laughter. His show is ostensibly about being an incorrigible gambler and starts with the massive odds against any of us being born, and from there meanders disjointedly through some vignettes of boyhood obsessions with sweeties, to oblique references to the financial wrack and ruin caused by hardcore gambling. (Laura Ennor) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 14), 6pm, £9–£12 (£7–£10). The Thinking Drinker’s Guide to Alcohol ●●●●● Opening your set by handing out bottles of beer seems a sure- fire way to end up with a certain type of audience. A dash of absurdity mixed with a splash of puns and a handful of cracking ones buoy up the multitude of alcohol factoids the Thinking duo spool off in some sort of QI-inspired drinking game. (Jaclyn Arndt) Assembly Rooms, 0844 693 3008, until 25 Aug (not 12), 6.30pm, £10 (£9). When I Grow Up ●●●●● Juliette Burton asks the question of how our chosen professions contribute to our identities in this one-woman show about her not- always-successful career aspirations. Taking us back to her childhood with an aura of Crayola whimsy she walks us through her early plans to become a ballerina, which works in counterpoint to her grimmer struggles later in life. Burton gets the job done, with plenty chuckles along the way. (Suzanne Black) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 26 Aug (not 13), 1.15pm, £8–£9 (£7–£8).