list.co.uk/festival Reviews at a Glance | FESTIVAL COMEDY
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10 Films with My Dad ●●●●● An affable and likeable raconteur, Aidan Goatley delivers an hour of autobiographical tales and observational material thematically bonded by films of the action, sports and Western genres, even throwing in a few pre-recorded skits as well. This is a fluffier take on the ‘difficult relationship with my dad’ genre and his material doesn’t live up to the setting. (Suzanne Black) Voodoo Rooms, 226 0000, until 24 Aug, 2.30pm, free. Abandoman ●●●●● Using suggestions from the audience to fuel their improvised lyrics, Rob Broderick and his extremely talented musicians perform songs in the style of Nicki Minaj, Snoop Dogg and Eminem. Abandoman are a one-trick pony but that pony happens to be a thoroughbred, more impressive than funny, and Broderick imbues the whole affair with enough showmanship to play it up into a thoroughly entertaining show. (Suzanne Black) Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 25 Aug (not 18), 9.10pm, £14–£15 (£13.50–£14.50). A Kitchen Nightmare ●●●●● In an hour with a handful of impressions that impressively and accurately skewer the target, Gerry Adams, Mickey Rourke and Peter Stringfellow take their turn in the satirical spotlight. Liam Hourican is a versatile and intense talent, but the string vests on show serve as a metaphor: amusing but often covering a lot of ground where a little more material would be very welcome. (Emma Newlands) Just the Tonic at The Caves, 556 5375, until 24 Aug, 6.40pm, £7–£9 (£6–£8.50). Amy G ●●●●● The cabaret star from Brooklyn blends slapstick humour, a fantastic voice and some very special talents to create an unforgettable experience. The show sees her look back on the most shameful moments of her life, then reclaim and celebrate them by travelling through a series of transformations in a feat of incredible physicality. (Marissa Burgess) Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 25 Aug (not 19), 11pm, £10–£12 (£9–£11). Andrew Doyle ●●●●● Applying his typical cruel wit to the thoughts a recent break-up has left him with, Doyle doesn’t just thoroughly shred his ex with that sharp tongue, it’s people who talk on trains, homophobes, children and Nuts readers. Doyle maintains a bit of jeopardy as to whether he might actually slip out of professionalism and into drunken despair. He doesn’t, but it’s an interesting balance to his bitchiness which eventually becomes easy to pre-empt. (Laura Ennor) The Stand IV, 558 7272, until 24 Aug, 9.20pm, £8 (£7). Andrew O’Neill ●●●●● From the black clad hordes sporting Mastodon T-shirts waiting in line, you know that O’Neill is preaching to the converted with this show about metal. It’s a risk writing material for such a specific audience but when you can connect so succinctly with a subculture, there’s a huge pay off. He knows his material and loves the music with a passion, hammering out riffs on his Flying V to illustrate his points. (Henry Northmore) Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 24 Aug, 10.45pm, £7.50–£9.50 (£6.50–£8.50). Bec Hill ●●●●● Hill delivers painstakingly constructed puns that will have you eagerly committing them to memory to test out on friends later and gets anger off her chest with some excoriating rants on personal and political issues. Skipping between comedic genres as if she has been given the key to the city, the pint-sized Australian dynamo demonstrates her prowess with a neatly constructed show that chronicles her attempts to prove worthy of a comedy award. (Suzanne Black) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 24 Aug, 5.30pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7.50–£8.50).
Bobby Mair ●●●●● ‘My act is like a finger in the ass,’ asserts Mair towards the end of his show. But despite opening with a dubious joke about Gaza, he’s not as controversial as he thinks. The Canadian slacker mixes observations with made up stories to varying effect. As he points out, if you don’t like the joke he’s telling, there’ll be another one soon enough. (Murray Robertson) Laughing Horse @ City Cafe, 220 0125, until 24 Aug (not 17 & 18), 6.45pm, free. Candy Gigi ●●●●● Should you become what you’re expected to? Or, like Candi Gigi, should you metaphorically tear up the rule book, don a bloodstained wedding dress, and chew up and spit out fruit, veg and toothpaste all over the audience? A few walkouts inevitably follow but anyone staying the distance gets a little more insight into what lies at the heart of her act. (Emma Newlands) Heroes @ The Hive, 226 0000, until 24 Aug (not 19), 4pm, free (£3–£5 to reserve a seat). Caution to the Wind ●●●●● From the outset, Chris Boyd announces that his show isn’t really a comedy. Although he describes Caution to the Wind as storytelling, he’s being disingenuous as what follow are fragments of comedy and it’s a shame there’s no story to bind them. Boyd explains he’s fascinated with wind, specifically tornadoes. He ambles on at length about his passion but, surprisingly, he imparts practically nothing from his knowledge. (Murray Robertson) Banshee Labyrinth, 226 0000, until 23 Aug, 1.10pm, free. Chelsea Manders ●●●●● Manders is both Canadian and a good middle-class girl who laments the fact that her parents brought her up balanced so has been working hard to undo their good work. A folk singer with a country and western twang, Manders has an oddball catalogue of songs; it’s pretty safe to say that’s she’s probably succeeded in creating the disturbed young woman she’s been striving to become. (Marissa Burgess) Assembly George Square, 623 3030, until 25 Aug, 10.30pm, £8–£9. Chris Coltrane ●●●●● A self- proclaimed ‘Maltesers Marxist’, Coltrane is on a mission to change people from caring about issues to going out and doing something about them. He’s living proof and shows us the power of protest, while picking on some celebs who would ditch their values for an extra half a million or so. (Brian Donaldson) Banshee Labyrinth, 226 0000, until 24 Aug, 3.30pm, free. Christian Talbot ●●●●● This unassuming Irish comedian probably does well at short open mic spots as all his decent gags could fit neatly into a ten-minute show. His better material, including a series of mock entries in office work cards to colleagues he’s never met, are brilliantly dark and when he’s reading from the scripted pages his pace is perfect. Elsewhere his delivery lets him down. (Rowena McIntosh) Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 25 Aug, 8.20pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9). Croft & Pearce ●●●●● One thing’s for sure, you can’t fault Hannah Croft and Fiona Pearce’s skills as actors. They bring to life all of their diverse characters with absolute precision and conviction. Effortlessly changing from middle-aged, middle-class ladies to a toothy fella with laddish workmates then a streetwise Brown Owl and her intimidated Brownie. The only quibble here is that they could do with bigger jokes. (Marissa Burgess) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 24 Aug, 5.45pm, £10 (£8). Dan Clark ●●●●● Richard Herring once did a show about feeling awful that he was 40. You can sense one on the horizon from Clark who can’t believe his age, especially when considering what his dad had done (and looked like) at the same age. Enjoyably bitter observations about love and shame raise this above the mundane. (Brian Donaldson) Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 24 Aug, 8.20pm, £8.50–£12.50 (£7.50–£11.50). Danish Face ●●●●● A great stable of accents and a thoroughly likeable performer isn’t quite enough to make this hour of comic storytelling stand out from
the crowd. Anna Andresen tells us the tale of her brief move from London to New York, but the story as it’s told here isn’t intrinsically funny or at all eventful. So the jokes in the show are built around it, and it fails to build into a cohesive set. (Yasmin Sulaiman) Just the Tonic at The Mash House, 226 0000, until 24 Aug, 10.20pm, free. Danny Buckler ●●●●● Russell Brand is right, there’s a certain air of Tony Hancock about Danny Buckler. You might be the hero in the film that plays within your head but the truth is you’re often the fool. Buckler’s theme of ‘fantasy vs reality’ is a great jumping-off point to meander through his life, from boxing lessons to discussing the doors of perception opened by LSD. He also lays claim to probably the best Brian Blessed anecdote in the world. (Henry Northmore) Cowgatehead, 226 0000, until 25 Aug, 6.15pm, free. Eleanor Morton ●●●●● This likeably dotty comic adds to the whole Game of Thrones vibe around Festival 2014 as she wanders around her local supermarket with the theme tune playing in her head. An enjoyable but uneven show drops hints that Morton may one day elevate herself to be the next David O’Doherty, but for now she is at the early learning centre stage of comedy development. (Brian Donaldson) The Stand IV, 558 7272, until 24 Aug, noon, £8 (£7). Excited!!! ●●●●● Australian musical trio Suns of Fred present an hour of countless songs adorned with well-honed choreography. Unfortunately, almost without exception, their songs are puerile, predictable and unfunny. Frequently tripping over each other’s words, they exhibit a painful lack of chemistry and, as the mood plummets, it’s clear that they’re rapidly losing confidence and proceedings limp onwards for an arduous finale. (Murray Robertson) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 25 Aug, 11pm, £6.50–£8 (£6–£7). Fall Girl ●●●●● How would you feel if you were constantly being conned at every turn? This seems to be the inexorable fate of Hayley in this spot of pleasant enough if not exactly earth- shattering musical theatre. Charity workers and reality TV producers are the bane of her life, but will Hayley find it within herself to fight back one day? What do you think . . . ? (Brian Donaldson) Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 25 Aug, 1.45pm, £10–£11 (£8–£9). Foil, Arms and Hog ●●●●● You’ll find nothing especially wrong with affable Irish sketch trio Foil, Arms and Hog. You’ll go along and be vicariously charmed by how much fun they seem to be having on stage; you’ll be swept up in the merriment of the battle of the mimes, or the teetotal intervention, or the Beer Hunter sequence. And, as you receive a free badge on your way out, you’ll think, ‘Aw, aren’t they nice lads?’ (Niki Boyle) Underbelly, Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 24 Aug, 10pm, £10–£11 (£9–£10). Four Screws Loose ●●●●● While most shows include a perfunctory warning to switch off your phones, the members of Four Screws Loose open with a hilarious musical number about the perils of mobiles; covering cheating at pub quizzes, addiction to YouPorn and ugly Grindr users in a routine that showcases both their impressive vocal talents and their on-topic humour. (Rowena McIntosh) Assembly George Square, 623 3030, until 25 Aug, 6.20pm, £10.50–£11.50. George Ryegold ●●●●● Disgraced medic George Ryegold has an impeccable and reassuring bedside manner. He wears a fuzzy beard and corduroy jacket; his speech is peppered with avuncular Old Etonionisms (everything’s ‘bloody’ or ‘a bugger’); and his Radio 4-friendly voice is pitched halfway between Terry Wogan at his most seductive and a snoozing tiger’s purr. It’s this firm and familiar demeanour that lets him get away with risqué topics. (Niki Boyle) Underbelly, 14–25 Aug 2014 THE LIST FESTIVAL 57