FESTIVAL COMEDY | Reviews
MICHAEL CHE: SIX STARS An unstructured calamity ruins some early promise ●●●●●
It’s never a pleasant sight to witness a fine comedian hijacking their own show. Michael Che is now a big name Stateside and it would be awful to reach the conclusion that he’s over here with so little to fight for that the foot has come right off the gas. But there has to be some rationale behind him virtually giving up on his show to indulge in laugh-free side-tracks, tangents and off- shoots that wind up nowhere. Over the course of an hour this would be difficult enough to
stomach. But having mildly chastised his tech guy for not giving him the lighting signal that his ‘set’ was coming to an end, he proceeded to hang around for a further 30 minutes, inadvisably climaxing the whole farrago by indulging in one of the worst moves a comic can make: ceaselessly berating an audience member for not howling with laughter at everything they’ve said. While someone in that row came to her defence, requesting
that Che backed off (he opted to ignore this sage advice), others joined in the barracking of a woman who had dared to defend herself against unreasonable attention from someone with a microphone. Perhaps Che revels in taking things to the edge, but it doesn’t do much for his comedy status or for engendering good feelings in a room which everyone entered with a common cause. The saddest thing is that Che had an excellent 20 minutes
that he could have built upon, but chose not to. His pro- Donald Trump material and analysis of taboo words suggested something better. But none of that will stay in the mind long than his unstructured ramblings and ungenerous acts. ‘Crowd work is hard work’ he bemoans at one point. The solution to that problem is staring him right in the face. (Brian Donaldson) ■ The Stand 3, 558 7272, until 20 Aug (not 17), 7.40pm, £12.
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ALLY HOUSTON: SHANDY A wrong turn or two undermines a decent debut where the young Scot clowns around ●●●●●
MASSIVE DAD 2.0: STEP UP 2 MASSIVE DAD Quickfire hour of multi-layered sketch fun ●●●●● FAYE TREACY WORRIES Debuting in Edinburgh with her slightly fretful one-woman horn section ●●●●●
It’s difficult to know exactly what’s going on with Ally Houston’s Fringe debut. The young Scottish comic gives us Shandy, the possibly semi-true tale of his obsession with an imaginary (maybe) pet clown (but is it?) who he desperately wants to shake off in order to live a happier life: but does he really want shot of his nemesis / alter ego?
It all kicks off well enough as Houston delivers
some jokes which either hit the mark full-on or seem deliberately bad. Not for nothing has he been mentioned in passing as a younger, more alive Chic Murray. Houston has a tech sidekick who says nothing but pops on stage from time to time to tidy up or get everything in order for Houston’s next bit. Most memorably, he drags a massive refuse bin up on to the stage for the show’s finest segment of health and safety-worrying daftness, while vaguely disturbing clown-based video footage is beamed into our increasingly baffled eyeballs. There’s a pleasant enough amateur sheen to all
this, but most off-putting are Houston's songs, some of them so gag-free that they seem to belong to an entirely parallel show. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Just the Tonic @ The Mash House, 226 0000, until 30 Aug (not 18), 9.20pm, £4 (£3).
54 THE LIST FESTIVAL 13–20 Aug 2015
There’s always room for old formats done very well, and Massive Dad provide just that: tight, energetic sketches where not a moment is wasted. At one point, tongues firmly in cheeks, they discuss the po-faced dramatic and pyrotechnical ambitions embodied in the show’s title. But for all that joking, they really have stepped up to the challenge of following up a successful debut. The material is many-layered but fun: three posh
twits who’ve formed a production company funded by the bank of mum and dad pitch a 70s cop show with a feminist twist; three women in a job interview become increasingly distracted from the matter at hand, a fact revealed by their interior monologues.
With knowing cracks at everything from twee Scandinavian folk bands to the NSA, this hour feels of-the-moment without being heavy-handedly so, and the whole spectrum from slapstick to wordiness is well utilised. Attention to detail may not be the most glamorous comedic quality, but it really makes a difference. Combined with Massive Dad’s boundless, relaxed energy, it helps make this hour fly by. (Laura Ennor) ■ Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 31 Aug (not 18), 6.50pm, £7.50–£9.50 (£6.50–£8.50).
Dipping her toe into Edinburgh’s waters after taking advice given to her by the dole office guy about not giving up on your dreams, Faye Treacy is doing a short but sweet 30 minutes of idiosyncratic trombone comedy. Having taken up the classical instrument and joining a youth orchestra (the only way to rebel against a punk-lovin’ dad), Treacy went on to attend the BRIT School at the same time as Adele and Jesse J.
Though this very early preview is beset with
techy problems, Treacy’s charm and endearing performance soon wins us round. She’s naturally wide-eyed with a perpetually worried look which she brandishes to her advantage as she lists her concerns (with musical accompaniment, of course). But she needn’t fret too much as her one-liners are expertly crafted and sharp. The simple analogy of comparing a trombone to a baby throws up some nicely daft and slightly risqué gags, whle a popular classical piece played with the aid of a vegetable makes for a delightfully ludicrous and surreal finale that deserves to be seen. (Marissa Burgess) ■ Laughing Horse @ Espionage, 477 7007, until 30 Aug, 1.15pm, free.