list.co.uk/festival Reviews | FESTIVAL COMEDY
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CATRIONA KNOX High-octane character frenzy ●●●●●
MATT FORDE Political animal makes a fine impression ●●●●● AUNTY DONNA Stupid, smart, clever and big ●●●●●
As Catriona Knox bounds around the stage, greeting her audience like a kangaroo on acid, you wonder how she’ll have the energy left for an hour- long show. But energised she is, firing full throttle through a clutch of characters, with the gallus pace and steely vigour of a seasoned sketch pro.
While her war-mongering, far-right-loving cook at the start of the show and her hyper, Jesus-adoring Reverend Paul at the end raise a few decent giggles, it’s Knox’s takes on HRH Prince George, Nick Clegg, and an American social psychologist ‘with a lot to live for’ that truly entertain. The royal baby channelling Patrick Swayze in Ghost is enough to tickle even the laziest of funny bones while poor old Cleggers is easy pickings for someone with Knox’s eye for detail and penchant for a piss-take. Nestle in a manic psychologist with a grudge to bear at a TED talk, and you’re well on your way to comedy gold.
Our affable audience member Darren is a great sport when called upon to ‘assist’ at various points of this high-energy character show. And by the end, it’s not just Knox who thinks she’s ‘hard enough’: we do too. (Anna Millar) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 25 Aug (not 12), 3.15pm, £7.50–£10 (£6.50–£9).
A groan from the crowd at the beginning suggests that some punters are not quite ready for a solid hour of British politics with impressions. The title, 24 Hour Political Party People, was surely something of a giveaway but in these curiously apolitical-comedy times, Matt Forde is a rare animal. Remaining New Labour to his core, Forde continues
to bear no ill-will towards Tony Blair, pitching him as an impressive statesman who marches around ‘pointing at things’ while poor Ed Miliband constantly looks as though he’s done a mischief in his trousers. Though it does feel a little rich that Forde should berate the current Labour leader for telling lies about the first thing he thinks about in the morning (probably not the cost-of-living crisis, as he claims) given the porkies his idol was accused of spouting. The impressions are uniformly excellent (though his Miliband does veer oddly towards Hardeep Singh Kohli territory) and the relish with which he delivers his William Hague is tempered by a genuine sadness Forde feels at the prospect of the former foreign secretary exeunting the political stage right. But with ‘characters’ like Farage and Boris kicking about, he’s unlikely to be short of material. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 24 Aug, 2.30pm, £8.50–£10 (£7–£9).
There are two things that need to be cleared up about Aunty Donna: there are three of them and they’re all men. This Aussie trio present a fresh, very physical take on sketch comedy that verges on the surreal: Broden Kelly, Zachary Ruane and Mark Samual Bonanno leap around the stage bringing to life a variety of weird and wonderful characters, from men who fight like kangaroos to teenage smokers. Underneath their veneer of idiocy is an ingenious
and brilliantly crafted show which subverts the usual comedy tropes with unexpected twists and turns. Their opening hipster coffee bar sketch is sharp observation taken to ridiculous extremes, while in one inspired moment they break the fourth wall for the show’s cleverest gag. The perfect blend of stupid and smart, the fast-
paced, hilarious and wonderfully absurd Aunty Donna hardly pause for breath. The transitions between each segment are seamless, with the only minor stumble arriving in the final sketch, simply because it's based on The Ellen DeGeneres Show which doesn't broadcast in the UK. It's a shame to go out on this after the manic energy of a strong 50 minutes where they hit their targets so precisely. (Henry Northmore) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 25 Aug (not 11), 10pm, £10.
SAM SIMMONS An aquatic oddity from an anarchic Aussie ●●●●●
Amid a stage strewn with Lego, cardboard sharks and coconuts (Death of a Sails-Man is set in the ocean), Sam Simmons stands be-wetsuited and repeatedly thrusting his pelvis. He introduces himself as Phil, a muesli salesman who was lost at sea while windsurfing, and the hour chronicles his mental deterioration in the face of dehydration and isolation. Giving the impression of loosely controlled anarchy, Simmons jumps in and out of character to perform, narrate and critique his progress.
The narrative, such as it is, involves horses, masturbation, the inexplicable inclusion of Vin Diesel and all manner of aquatic oddities. Among the props, songs, hip hop and gyrating, the majority of this show is delivered as a rapid-fire conversation between Phil’s inner voices, assisted by a staggering number of cued recordings (kudos to the sound team).
Simmons presents his set as if it’s a botch job of buffoonery and it’s easy to be fooled by the apparently haphazard silliness. However, a look under the surface reveals a complex apparatus at work. Calling to mind the anarchic energies of Tony Law and Simon Munnery, this is high-functioning surreality, its seeming spontaneity masking a finely wrought comedic sensibility.
When Simon Amstell accused arch-surrealist Noel Fielding of merely juxtaposing weird words on Never Mind the Buzzcocks, he tried to mimic him with the phrase ‘a pair of scissors made out of glitter’. Fielding’s superior response of a ‘motorbike made of jealousy’ revealed the subtle difference between attempting absurdism and delivering it. With a bit of the Boosh about him, Simmons proves his surrealist radar is fully attuned. Under the pretence of messing about on the high seas, he orchestrates calculated waves of raucous laughter. (Suzanne Black) ■ Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 24 Aug (not 11, 18), 8.50pm, £11–£13 (£10–£12).
7–14 Aug 2014 THE LIST FESTIVAL 49