FESTIVAL COMEDY | Reviews
SARA PASCOE An unstoppable and hilarious force ●●●●●
Dazzled by flash photography from the very start of her show, Sara Pascoe is forced to set off on the wrong foot. She gently chastises a number of audience members before apologising for her understandable frustration. Although the comic worries that she’s lost momentum, she’s done nothing of the sort. Once Pascoe gets going she’s an unstoppable force, tearing through deeply personal but always relatable material, proving herself to be a remarkably focused comedian.
On relationships she illustrates her points with wonderfully candid anecdotes from the past, including a fantastic routine about fancying the various members in the formative Take That. Pascoe then delves way back to our ancestors as she works through the sexual evolution of humankind. It may sound a bit dry on paper, but in her hands it’s fascinating, hilarious and endlessly engaging, and it never comes across like she’s just reeling off facts. Everything she’s researched has been parsed through her inquisitive mind, extracting compelling arguments about male and female sexuality. A strong supporter of the No More Page Three campaign, she
sets out a wonderful plan to debunk that sexist institution before tackling Robin Thicke’s ‘Blurred Lines’. She finds even more to say about its rampant misogyny in a diatribe that’s both piercing and rational. Sara Pascoe vs History is well-honed, incisive and often jaw-droppingly frank, particularly when discussing her current relationship and her boyfriend’s proclivity for porn. This impassioned material, although constantly captivating, might not always be out-and-out funny. But Sara Pascoe is a tremendously polished and thought-provoking performer, and her show is a meticulously crafted piece of work. (Murray Robertson) ■ Assembly George Square, 226 0000, until 25 Aug (not 11), 8.15pm, £10.50–£12 (£9–£10).
M U N R O K I
A L O C N I
ALEX EDELMAN Far-flung tales of being millennial ●●●●●
ZAZU A crazy inconsistent sketch world ●●●●● NICK COYLE Meandering mess with flashes of quality ●●●●●
‘I have a mouth on me,’ Alex Edelman admits and he is not wrong. Indeed, he is so gobby that he managed to get into a fight in a vegan cupcake shop: presumably, no mean feat. This realisation came midway through a study he participated in to determine how much of a ‘millennial’ he is. The Gen Y-er talks through the test which covers education, politics, workplace, health and personal (read: mainly sex), to give a general view of his young- person credentials. Edelman’s clout is that he is a naturally gifted and
funny storyteller, and would make David Sedaris proud with the way he spins yarns for each of the sections. As far-flung as some of these appear, he is so engaging that incredulity is put to one side, and so engrossing that it’s imperative to know the ending to each intriguing beginning. His jokes are well-constructed, often meandering into the surreal or macabre but always returning to a solid punchline. Nothing seems off-the-cuff; there is a scripted, clinical vibe to his delivery. Yet, this can be overlooked thanks to his natural talent for blending robust short story-style gags with a sound sense of humour. (Kirstyn Smith) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 24 Aug, 8.15pm, £8.50–£11.50 (£7–£10).
48 THE LIST FESTIVAL 7–14 Aug 2014
You’ve gotta love the Fringe and where it can take you. Here, we’ve followed a bee through a portal and arrived in the parallel universe of zazU: a big crazy world with an awfully small mentality. There’s much to like, as this talented quartet create a series of cold, oddball characters and play out short skits of strange and often clumsy interactions. As with any surrealist romp, some characters
and ideas fare better than others, but the cast is roundly accomplished and able to flit from one crazy scenario to the next with relative ease, a gentle humour driving the action along. As we meet this motley crew of eccentrics, there are some flickers of brilliance from the man-bashing Isla and desperate boy-who’s-really-a-girl John Lucy, to the freaky Spittlecheeks and brash DCI Bastard.
But while the matronly voiceover helps pin the whole thing together, some of the skits and characters feel at times disjointed, lacking the quirky ‘wow’ factor to really pack a comedy punch. Perhaps if they’d stripped some of the characters back and given them more focus, this could have been propelled from a decent afternoon show to something altogether greater. (Anna Millar) ■ Underbelly, Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 24 Aug (not 13), 3.40pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9).
Nick Coyle’s one-man absurdist comedy gets off to a very slow and cagey start. In a protracted voiceover he explains that his girlfriend Jenny has died and that this show is a tribute to her memory. Coyle then introduces a robotic replica of her head comprising a toaster, an alarm clock and a blonde wig. He tries to tell this ‘Second Jen’ some jokes but eventually tires of its inability to understand him. Later, he details her infidelity with a man named Garth, while in character as Jenny. Later still, he performs as Garth as performed by Jenny. Soldiering on despite losing half his audience,
Coyle is a brave but unsure performer. His surreal tale is horribly unfocused and he keeps returning to routines that patently don’t work. Yet, in among all the wreckage there are sporadic moments of hilarity, although he gets his biggest laugh during the show’s denouement when he pretends to be sick all over himself, which does seem rather symbolic. Coyle dwells too long on surreal elements that don’t work, and he’s not committed enough to go all-out weird. There are pockets of his show that suggest he’s an able performer, but he’s served badly by this meandering mess. (Murray Robertson) ■ Just the Tonic at The Caves, 556 5375, until 24 Aug (not 12), 10pm, £8.50–£10.50 (£7–£9).