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list.co.uk/festival Reviews | FESTIVAL COMEDY
ANGELA BARNES A fizzy and fun Fringe debut ●●●●●
MARK NELSON Wondrous images tucked up his barbed sleeve ●●●●● ONE MAN BREAKING BAD A mixed bag of meth-based comedy ●●●●●
Angela Barnes is 37 years old, something that she seems just a wee bit hung up on judging by the amount of times she actually mentions her age during her hour-long debut set at Pleasance Courtyard. Luckily, those years of experience have left this fizzy comedian (who walked off with the BBC New Comedy Award back in 2011) with a stockpile of material that is nothing short of a comedy treasure trove. In what feels like a whirlwind tour around the
major events in most people’s lives (birth, death and marriage are all covered here), Barnes’ quick wit and wry observations take on everything from what to do with a godchild and how to properly dance to double-denimed rockers Status Quo.
The title of the show, You Can’t Take it With You, is inspired by her late father, a figure who looms large over her performance like a cheeky spectre. As a sex-shop owner, dedicated St John Ambulance volunteer and caravan enthusiast, it is little wonder he’s the source of a large chunk of her material. Angela Barnes’ spark is infectious and her delivery is fast, furious and seriously funny. (Jen Bowden) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 24 Aug, 6pm, £7.50–£10 (£6.50–£9).
Still a spritely 33-year-old, Mark Nelson nevertheless feels the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. Now married with a young daughter, he reminisces about his carefree teenage days, yet even with this youthful audience, it’s telling that he reaches out to a retired couple to reaffirm his observations.
The Glasgow-based comic covers a wide range of material with a smattering of Scottish concerns such as our relationship with alcohol and that impending independence referendum. He’s at his best when on a roll but he occasionally struggles to maintain momentum. Nelson’s never been one for long stories or big issues but his past shows have been bound by tighter writing. He still relishes the chance to surprise audiences with darker observations, but tonight a few of the bigger punchlines are visible from afar. While it might not be vintage Nelson, he remains a confident performer with a nice line of barbs up his sleeve. And he’s a master of similes, frequently conjuring up wondrous images with profound economy. Mark Nelson is still a solid, if slightly coasting, comedian. (Murray Robertson) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 25 Aug, 8.45pm, £10–£12.50 (£7.50–£10).
Miles Allen’s commitment to Breaking Bad cannot be over-estimated. He claims to have become almost Jehovah’s Witness-like in his devotion, doorstepping strangers to tell them the good news. Luckily, he’s preaching to the converted here, a show-of-hands suggesting only a clutch of people have yet to watch the series in its entirety. Once the preamble of equating Edinburgh with
hardcore substance abuse is out of the way, he gets into his show’s meat: ‘60 episodes in 60 minutes’ (yes, OK, there were 62 episodes, but let’s not let a little detail get in the way of a neat tagline). He does veer off-script to stick in some of his own punchlines and to speculate on how other films and TV shows would be improved if they had key characters uttering a Jesse-like ‘bitch’ more often. But this show lives and dies on the quality of the
impersonations. And frankly, it’s variable. The muted response to Walter White may be due to his general unpopularity, but it could be that Allen’s take is not especially good. His Jesse is fine, but he’s totally nailed Mike, Walt Jnr and Hank. For those of us who thought Breaking Bad was way overrated, this mixed bag is the ideal tribute. (Brian Donaldson) ■ The Stand III, 558 7272, until 16 Aug, 7.40pm; 17–24 Aug (not 19), midnight, £12.
HORROR COMEDY Laughter in the dark
Horror and comedy might sound unlikely bedfellows but when done right, the fear can actually enhance the laughs as the steam valve of terror is released. At the Stand IV, John Robertson (●●●●●) begins his routine with its own prequel, a whacked-out retelling of the universe’s creation. The Aussie stand-up then launches into several manic stories involving the Marquis de Sade, Rasputin and Filipino vampires during A Nifty History of Evil. Plenty of good punchy gags but it's not as edgy as Robertson imagines. Over in the Pleasance Courtyard, Ivy and Morris are The Twins Macabre (●●●●●) (pictured), two psychic siblings who come across like creepy Victorian children trapped in the modern world. They brilliantly inhabit their characters: Ivy is the ringleader while Morris is the obedient fool. Presenting a series of grisly vignettes, the stories of their own childhood are particularly inspired, hitting the magic sweet spot where they make you laugh even as your skin crawls.
Also at the Pleasance Courtyard, Tom Neenan (●●●●●) is a master storyteller vividly bringing to life his ghostly tale The Haunting of Lopham House. He draws on the works of MR James and his ilk for inspiration as a young man finds himself staying in a haunted mansion. With just a few simple sound effects and basic props, Neenan creates a wonderfully spooky atmosphere, with sharp wordplay and bizarre characters.
Rather than adopting Neenan's long-form narrative, Will
Seaward (●●●●●) opts for a selection of short nonsense tales at the Gilded Balloon. You'll encounter salty sea dogs, vampires and ghosts aplenty. Perhaps a bit too silly to be genuinely scary but Seaward is a natural raconteur with his big booming voice and energetic mugging. (Henry Northmore) ■ Full details on all shows at list.co.uk/festival
14-25 Aug 2014 THE LIST FESTIVAL 55