list.co.uk/festival Reviews | FESTIVAL COMEDY
R E K C U T Y D N M
I
DANIEL SIMONSEN An uncertain follow-up from one of last year’s winners ●●●●●
Daniel Simonsen starts Stranger by peeking out from the curtain as if he were afraid to just walk on stage unbidden. At times, his muted delivery and Norwegian accent make him sound as though his voice is being fed through autotune as he lurches around a variety of subjects, with his awkwardness and physicality serving as an anchor point. He is also seemingly obsessed with not getting three-star reviews, believing that at least you would remember a one-star show even for the wrong reasons.
There are a few genuine high points in a
confused and often uncomfortable show from last year’s Foster’s Edinburgh Comedy Award’s Best Newcomer: his description of the way Facebook distorts life is funny and insightful. A prolonged description of a pre-internet masturbatory fantasy is truly inspired too; but these are let down by a woefully misjudged and agonisingly long routine on how he would perform if the audience were cats. This was almost a three-star show, but thanks to his desperation to avoid that, added to the painful last quarter, it’s only too easy to oblige. (Gordon Eldrett) ■ Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 19), 8.20pm, £8.50–£11 (£7.50–£10).
MICHAEL CHE Tough crowd and a tougher comic ●●●●● CLAUDIA O’DOHERTY Minimalist humour, minimal joy ●●●●●
At the end, this tough, young, sharp comic who came up from New York City’s projects apologises for it being a ‘strange show’. Michael Che is referring to the row of humourless hecklers in the front who piped up intermittently, occasionally in a threatening manner. But no apology is necessary; Che manages the interjections with such grace and cheek that the local eejits end up making him look even better. With her 2010 solo debut Monster of the Deep 3-D, Claudia O’Doherty’s lo-fi whimsy was a genuine delight. Her subsequent shows (including last year’s Edinburgh Comedy Award-nominated The Telescope) have gradually increased in physical scope to the point where she has now brought us Pioneer, in which she has put together an ultra- expensive stage spectacle in a bid to attract shallow sponsors with deep pockets.
And then there was the 13-year-old kid, The joke is that while she has managed to get
underage in a late-night show with his parents either side of him. ‘Wait ‘til you hear the second half of my show,’ Che says, seemingly somewhat nervous before running an XXX-rated routine. But he needn’t have worried; he handles the kid with such charm that once again he ends up on the winning side.
Che’s masterstroke, on a clearly tricky night, was to bounce back and forth between the annoying adults and the kid, while still maintaining his cool and the semblance of a routine that took in such serious issues as race and sexual politics. Would he have been as good with an easy crowd? One suspects, yes, he would. (Miles Fielder) ■ Assembly Rooms, 0844 693 3008, until 25 Aug, 10pm, £10 (£9).
her hands on flashy multimedia tools (holograms, gauze screens and massive sound effects), her comedy aesthetic remains defiantly minimalist. Once you’ve got the joke and take it on board as you watch O’Doherty fail to be in complete control of her set, there’s very little else to sustain the hour. The odd self-deprecatory quip manages to climb its way to safety and escape her character’s seeming arrogance, but it’s never wholly satisfying. It’s so brash, bold and ultimately pointless, that you yearn for the day when her shows would end with a handful of crowd members looking at an underwater universe through a cardboard box. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug, 9.50pm, £9–£11.50 (£8–£10.50).
THE DARK ROOM / KNIGHTMARE LIVE! How to get ahead in the retromania game
It was only a matter of time before retromania – repackaging the past to entertain us in the present – outgrew the spheres of film and music and ventured beyond. Two productions apply this trend to a highly niche arena: that of technology-aided fantasy adventures from the 80s and 90s.
John Robertson’s The Dark Room (●●●●●) is a deliciously fiendish recreation of the text-based games from the earliest home-gaming systems. With a ‘dark room’ as a starting point, participants are presented with a series of actions that vary in sensibleness (from ‘turn on the light switch’ to ‘tap your heels for Joseph Stalin’) but not in end result: the player is invariably shunted back to the dark room, until they inexplicably die. Using such brutal methodology, Robertson ploughs through a good chunk of his audience each show, the high velocity delivery and lo-fi tech set-up ensuring an exhilarating pace.
Knightmare Live! (●●●●●), on the other hand, plays a long game,
transporting one plucky volunteer into the world of the cult TV show in which a group of children steered a teammate through a virtual reality dungeon. The team have gone all out in transforming virtual reality trickery into practical special effects, and their adoration for the source material is obvious. But where The Dark Room succeeds on Robertson’s
megalomaniacal personality, Knightmare Live! stumbles by spreading talent too thin. Resident performers are spot on, but they, the audience and the poor sod being guided are at the mercy of the guest comedians assisting, with any lacklustre co-hosting resulting in an unsatisfying show. (Niki Boyle) ■ The Dark Room, Underbelly, Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 25 Aug, 8.40pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9); Knightmare Live!, Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 25 Aug, 5.30pm & 9.30pm, £10.50–£11.50 (£9.50–£10.50).
15–22 Aug 2013 THE LIST FESTIVAL 45
I I
K C N H C A B E S U O L - E H P O S
I