list.co.uk/festival Reviews | FESTIVAL COMEDY
SUSAN CALMAN The likeable lass on self-deprecation ●●●●●
LAUGHTER IS THE WORST MEDICINE An hour of shattered misconceptions ●●●●● CARL DONNELLY Consistent hour with moments of pure hilarity ●●●●●
TV game-show host, radio pundit and failed ballerina, Susan Calman was voted Britain’s fourth funniest lesbian comedian recently, she grimaces. Fourth! Sandi Toksvig, Sue Perkins and Rhona Cameron nudged her off the winner’s podium. That’s how Calman seems to feel: not quite belonging beside the gold medallist, more at home watching the action on TV, with her cat, eating a whole Viennetta. To her fans (mostly early-to-bed Radio 4 listeners
and ‘the cliterati’) she’s still a pally wee dork from Glasgow. That dork is now savvier; online trolls triggered a nervous breakdown last year, she explains, dropping the jolliness for a rare second. Her civil partnership gets a look-in too, but there’s less politically charged stuff this time and more anecdotes about trawling Paris sewers for romance.
It’s dependably good, seamlessly sewn-together stuff and Calman, who’s built a career around chummy self-loathing, does it with her eyes closed. The title, Lady Like, is nothing to do with liking ladies, she stresses, it’s about learning to like herself. Who knows where her comedy would go if she ever did? (Claire Sawers) ■ Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 24 Aug, 6.30pm, £12.50–£13.50 (£11.50–£12.50).
Last year at the Fringe, Lost Voice Guy was part way through his run when he fell ill. It turned out he had been standing out in the Edinburgh rain a touch too long and developed a life-threatening bout of pneumonia. Still, it gave him the material for this year.
Anyone who has seen him before will already be
familiar with the fact that there are plenty gags to be made by simply confounding expectation. People tend to conjure up some odd ideas when faced with a disabled person. They see the symptoms of his cerebral palsy and assume he has other conditions; and because he can't talk, people might also presume he is deaf. Of course, Lost Voice Guy's mind works just fine;
he's tack sharp but needs an iPad to speak his words for him. So with a pure RP sat nav voice, he swears like a docker, makes dark jokes and passes comment on women with the cheek of any 'able-bodied' comic. The only real difference is that the delivery is a little less spontaneous. Not that it's a major problem, as Lost Voice Guy follows up 2013’s show with another hour of laughs that serves to shatter some misconceptions. (Marissa Burgess) ■ Assembly Rooms, 0844 693 3008, until 24 Aug (not 11, 18), 5pm, £10 (£9).
Carl Donnelly was as surprised as anyone when his solid yet unspectacular stand-up act gained a spot on the Edinburgh Comedy Awards shortlist last Fringe. Little did observers know that the London comic was harbouring much pain with his marriage having just broken down.
He returns looking at the world with new eyes (he
underwent laser surgery on his peepers recently) and this new show is about some strange incidents which have occurred in his orbit during the last 12 months. A trip to India renders both horror and humour while closer to home, he stumbles his way into a genteel 40th birthday party in which a guest’s impromptu striptease goes drastically wrong. And if you want sound advice on how not to sample some shamanic tea, Carl’s your guy. The joy in a Donnelly show is the loving detail with which he paints hysterical pictures for his audience, although his habit of overly setting the scene for an anecdote becomes a little distracting when he should just plunge straight in. But this is a minor quibble about an hour that is constantly funny and occasionally jaw-dropping. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 23 Aug (not 13), 8.30pm, £8.50–£10 (£7–£9).
GEIN’S FAMILY GIFTSHOP: VOLUME 1 Where the sick meets the subtle ●●●●●
The cult of young sketch groups going for the jugular marked ‘really offensive’ might not have started with the Late Night Gimp Fight boys. But they certainly lowered the bar for future contenders to hop over and test how the depths could be further plumbed. On first glimpse, it might seem that Manchester trio Gein’s Family Giftshop (aka Ed Easton, Kath Hughes, James Meehan) have proudly taken up the cudgel.
For one thing, there’s the name, uneasily bringing to mind a souvenir and postcard emporium dedicated to the Wisconsin serial killer who inspired Psycho. But more centrally, there’s some of their sketch content. Anyone who witnesses the ‘chess game’ up close (and given that their venue has three rows, that should be everyone) is unlikely to shake that image out of their heads for a while. Happily, unlike the Gimps, there is a far greater element of
subtle trickery in this group’s writing. So, the almost inevitable ‘dead baby’ sequence has a neat surprise up its onesie; not that it will leave you feeling especially warm, but it’s still admirably clever. And when they let loose (such as with the ill-advised audition), you can easily forgive them as there will always be something a little less brash just around the corner. But the main bone of contention for some will be the way they use the traditional sketch group motif of the whipping boy; or, in this case, whipping girl Kath, who is relentlessly bullied by the others. Will it be enough that she ultimately has the last laugh or does the fact that she has to resort to an extreme deed to gain the upper hand make it a less notable victory? Debate will no doubt ensue through the month. Just be thankful their horror doesn’t come with a dodgy mask attached. (Brian Donaldson). ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 24 Aug (not 11), 10.45pm, £7–£9 (£6–£8).
7–14 Aug 2014 THE LIST FESTIVAL 53