list.co.uk/festival Reviews | FESTIVAL COMEDY
ERICH MCELROY A funny plea for staying together ●●●●●
KATHERINE RYAN A feminist stance on role models ●●●●● AL LUBEL Law’s loss is comedy’s gain ●●●●●
Every hack and their dog are spouting Scottish referendum material at this year’s Fringe, but American comic Erich McElroy has devoted 60 minutes to it. It's a subject ripe for satire and, while his show is hardly explosive, he explores it with an outsider’s eye for amusing detail. A British citizen since 2007, this amiable ex-pat may not be eligible to vote in September, but he’s followed the saga with a scrutiny that would shame most Scots-born commentators.
PowerPoint is often the last refuge of the lazy, but McElroy’s inspired choice of clips – such as Salmond's grandstanding juxtaposed with right- wing US Christian insanity – are bolstered by a warm, witty narration on his central theme: pride in one’s background is perfectly acceptable until it degenerates into absurd nationalism.
Despite being firmly in the ‘no’ camp, McElroy’s show never comes across as a divisive polemic. It’s a heartfelt plea from a smart, sharp, endearing comic who’s baffled by the very idea of cultural separatism. It’s likely that even the staunchest independence supporter will be charmed by his inclusive monologue. (Paul Whitelaw) ■ Just the Tonic at The Community Project, 556 5375, until 24 Aug (not 12), 6.55pm, £8–£10.
Katherine Ryan’s new show opens with a short routine courtesy of Violet, the comic’s four-year-old daughter, whose imitation of her mum’s profession adorably demonstrates who her role model is. Ryan continues her previous shows' celebrity culture theme but has developed it to make serious points about first-world priorities. Her mocking of icons is mostly lighthearted and safe but she’s not afraid to push the limits of taste with a cutting put-down. Some of her best routines stem from a Canadian
perspective on uniquely British notions, including glamour models. A public supporter of the No More Page Three campaign, her argument is not only bitingly funny but a revelation in its simplicity. Glam Role Model is Ryan’s most revealing show to date. She discusses the anguish of being cheated on and details a personal experience that requires bravery to discuss publicly, skilfully finding equal levels of humour and humanity in the situation. The show is feminist without ever needing to class
itself so and if you only take away why Ariel from The Little Mermaid is a bad role model, or how to re-enact Beyoncé’s signature dance, then Katherine Ryan has helped the cause. (Rowena McIntosh) ■ The Stand V, 558 7272, until 10 Aug, 6.45pm, £10 (£8).
As the old joke has it: ‘Oedipus Schmoedipus: who cares so long as you love your mother!’ The only child of an overbearing maternal figure, Al Lubel battles his rage over the effect she’s had on him and says (many a true word spoken in jest and all), that ‘comedy, for me, is psychotherapy’. He says he became a lawyer to please his mother, and a comedian to please himself, which did not please her.
Passing the California bar exam at the first
attempt, he fought for the law but the law lost. Comedy won his attentions and he eventually ditched the day job, swapping a jury audience for a stand-up one. A loss to the legal and criminal world, perhaps, but a resounding victory for anyone catching his act. Marrying Woody Allen-style neuroses (‘I’m afraid
of everything’) with deadpan Steven Wright-style one-liners, topics like dating, health and mortality fan the flames of his anxiety and uncover new ground in well-trodden comic territory. He also attacks the deserving target of people using more words than they need to: guess that lawyer training really has worn off. This is a low-fi, high-laugh hour, beyond all reasonable doubt. (Emma Newlands) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 24 Aug, 10.30pm, £7.50–£10 (£6.50–£9).
THE PIN Reinventing sketch comedy before our very eyes ●●●●●
There are some sketch acts who try so hard to do something innovative with the form that they forget to put in the laughs while others write perfectly amusing but conventional routines which make themselves instantly forgettable. The Pin have come up with the rather brilliant idea of doing both. For a full, blistering hour.
Caught in one of the major downpours over the Fringe’s first weekend, the Pin queue was made to shelter for a further ten minutes while some hitches were ironed out inside. Any foul moods which were marched into the venue soon dissipated on sight of Alex Owen and Ben Ashenden awaiting them; the latter offered hugs and smiles while the former concentrated hard on finishing off a script which flashed up on the screen behind him. This script acts as the key to unlock a series of sketches
which are played for laughs, certainly, but those laughs come mainly from the way the pair bend, cut and remould the way we think about sketch comedy. There isn’t a single routine put in purely for the sake of it: each one has innovation and imagination stamped full in its face. The content is only part of this show’s story, but if that’s what you need from a review, here you go: there’s a screened sequence with their identical twins, a confusion over Ant and Dec, and a bike shop encounter with a layered subtext. None of which gets even close to hinting at what they end up doing with that raw material.
For last year’s debut as a duo, Ashenden and Owen played the by-now standard power games within a sketch team. This time, they are equals on stage, setting aside that time to do far more exciting things with their chosen artform. In the Pin’s hands, the future of sketch might already be here. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 25 Aug (not 11, 18), 6pm, £9–£11 (£8–£10).
7–14 Aug 2014 THE LIST FESTIVAL 43