FESTIVAL COMEDY | Reviews at a Glance
Kevin Day: Hairline ●●●●● Kevin Day’s recent hair loss forms the basis of a meandering tour through some events from the past year, in his own life and the world at large. His Irish heritage, socialist politics and hatred of Prince Andrew are covered – along with a lot of knob jokes – as he wends his way towards a point. Day’s style is relaxed and unhurried, allowing him to come across as affable even when he’s being vitriolic. (Suzanne Black) Gilded Balloon, 622 6552, until 30 Aug (not 19), 6.15pm, £10–£11 (£9–£10). Laughing Stock ●●●●● In a succession of recurring and single- serving skits, the troupe take turns aggravating each other to either just past the bounds of propriety or sometimes further. The repetition of meetings between two childhood friends who reunite in a pub leads to diminishing returns, while a duel between two buskers sets up a riff that allows the team to show off their musical talents and delivers a nice pay-off. (Suzanne Black) Underbelly Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 30 Aug, 2.40pm, £9.50–£10 (£8.50–£9). Lily Bevan: Pheasant Plucker ●●●●● Bevan’s show is framed by the amusingly tenuous conceit of a falconer, aptly named Harriet, whose loss of a bird (Jester) inspires her to find herself instead. Harriet’s personal voyage enables Bevan to reel out a range of perfectly executed and totally bats characters. She’s crammed in so many that if one is just a touch under par the next gem will be along in a few minutes. (Marissa Burgess) Underbelly Med Quad, 0844 545 8252, until 31 Aug (not 17), 3pm, £10–£11 (£9–£10). Love Sick ●●●●● What is love? Two wacky aliens have come to Earth to find out, and their faulty methodology yields some hilarious, if not entirely helpful results. Dressed in lycra leotards and terrible wigs, a male and female (though this is not made entirely clear) bumble their way through our planet’s baffling mating customs and dating rituals. The ad-libbing is great, the audience participation is gross, and the show is essentially a very silly look at what makes us tick ‘down there’. (Carmody Wilson) Assembly Hall, 623 3030, until 30 Aug (not 17), 7pm, £8.50–£9.50. Mark Forward presents Mark Forward ●●●●● Forward knows that everyone has a trigger and he wants to pull yours. Not that this hour is a barrage of shock tactics, his show is far subtler and cleverer than that. Occasionally he approaches the edge and peers over into the darkness below but Forward is more interested in the idea of taste, constantly reminding us they’re just words and it’s all make-believe. (Henry Northmore) Gilded Balloon, 622 6552, until 31 Aug (not 27), 9.30pm, £10–£12 (£8–£10). Mark Stephenson: Amsterdam ●●●●● When your view of a comedian is distractingly overshadowed by an illuminated waving skeleton looming large in the background, who is strong enough not to use it as a metaphor? Mortality is certainly one of the points covered in Stephenson’s set, as he takes us on a tale through the pain of a troubled upbringing and beyond. Stephenson certainly has skill, with a confident, compelling stage presence, working through the theme of identity, from dysfunctional upbringing to marriage. (Emma Newlands) Banshee Labyrinth, 226 0000, until 30 Aug (not 17), 2.20pm, free. Matt Forde: Get the Political Party Started ●●●●● It’s never been a better time to be a political comedian and Matt Forde knows it. In this new hour, Forde has plenty of fun with 2015’s post-electoral political landscape, digging into party leaders old, new and in-the-wings. And although he’s a committed Labour Party member and unapologetic Blairite, his party gets as much of a kicking as everyone else in an hour of amusing political observations and spot-on impressions, but surprisingly 56 THE LIST FESTIVAL 13–20 Aug 2015
Lily Bevan: Pheasant Plucker
few punchlines. (Yasmin Sulaiman) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug, 3.50pm, £8.50–£10 (£7–£9). Nathan Caton: Straight Outta Middlesex ●●●●● By the tenth minute, Caton had winsomely explored the life and times of about eight punters and set the tone for a warm and charming hour of comedy. Caton’s strongest material centres on his home life, where his brother, mother and stepfather are given close and considered attention. They’re the beating heart of his set, fully rounded characters that give the whole performance an emotional grounding and something of a moral compass. (Dave Coates) Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 30 Aug (not 17), 8pm, £8.50–£11 (£7.50–£10). Nick Hall: Dodekahedron ●●●●● Hall presents a cavalcade of characters in this furiously paced one-man show which starts strongly with a nice puncture of party conference speeches as his pretend PM exposes the pontifications, platitudes and political bullshit that typify such occasions. After a neat skewering of consumer affairs TV shows, Hall breaks into a succession of quick-fire commercials. Those skits aren’t especially funny, and Hall dashes between them so quickly that we’re unsure if he’s expecting applause. (Murray Robertson) Underbelly George Square, 0844 545 8252, until 31 Aug (not 19), 5.30pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9). Normally Abnormal ●●●●● They say it’s not what you say but how you say it and Dave Chawner is the embodiment of this truism. His stand-up is unabashedly formed around his ongoing relationship with anorexia. As an ambassador for various eating disorder and mental health charities, it would be easy for his show to come across as a thinly veiled after-school special. Happily, Chawner offers eye-opening insight into an under-reported issue. (Suzanne Black) Laughing Horse @ The Counting House, 667 7533, until 30 Aug, 7pm, free. Omid Singh: My Favourite Words in the English Language ●●●●● Mining his half-Indian, half-Iranian heritage for some killer gags, Singh can happily mock three cultures without fear of repercussions and joyfully play with stereotypes. Singh’s material is great but he has a tendency to veer off on tangents to chat with the audience. Sometimes it will pay off for some of the biggest laughs of the night and he certainly lucks out with a Greek in the audience: #greekingit. (Henry Northmore) Just the Tonic at The Tron, 220 1212, until 30 Aug (not 18), 7.30pm, £7–£8.50 (£6–£7; family ticket £20). Papa CJ: Naked ●●●●● Papa CJ wants sympathy for putting his first love on a major pedestal, deciding marriage after eight years won’t do, asking for a break, then being devastated when she (understandably) moves on. There’s also an unoriginal gynaecology joke and drink-driving japes described as ‘epic’. Throughout, Papa CJ removes his clothes, clumsily demonstrating how he’s shedding his emotional layers by opening up to the audience, something he doesn’t need to spend so much time explaining: the formulaic emotional manipulation makes that clear. (Kirstyn Smith) Laughing Horse @ Espionage, 477 7007, until 23 Aug, 7.45pm, free. Return of the Danish Bagpipe Comedian●●●●● Claus Reiss certainly has one of the top props among this August’s comedy fraternity, but his show is a rather lukewarm delve into finding surprise humour in an instrument that already starts off pretty amusingly. Reiss is amiable company but his generic gags often strike a bum note. (Brian Donaldson) Laughing Horse @ Espionage, 477 7007, until 30 Aug (not 17, 24), 12.15pm, free. Sam Brady: Kindness ●●●●● Anyone order an hour of comedy as catharsis with extra Buddhism? If so then Brady may fit the bill with this look at his personal battles through divorce, fatherhood and beyond as he fights a constant battle to lead whatever the good life entails. His message that an act of kindness is never wasted is also a refreshing one, but seems to have come at the expense of the comedy itself. (Emma Newlands) Assembly Rooms, 0844 693 3008, until 16 Aug, 5.15pm, £10 (£9). Scott Redmond: Jokes A bout Things ●●●●● At 18, Redmond is something of a precocious talent, having already clocked up a couple of years on the circuit. He’s run into scrapes and a near kidnapping, as well as experiencing personal losses including a dog, grandfather and girlfriends. Redmond combines a teen’s sense of fun with a well-tapped vein of intellect infused by a worldly wisdom way beyond his years, and it makes for an intriguing combination. (Marissa Burgess) Laughing Horse @ Moriarty’s, 228 5558, until 30 Aug, 10.30pm, free. Sleeping Trees: Mafia? & Western? ●●●●● Sleeping Trees is a trio of physical comedians and, in a stroke of bums-on-seats genius, they’re performing two similarly appealing but different shows on alternate days: one day they’ll parody a western, the next a mafia flick. Both involve the considerable musical talents of the Physics House Band, better known for playing jazzy math rock but here providing a highly versatile and atmospheric backdrop to the action. Fans of BLAM! will enjoy this. (Laura Ennor) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 22 Aug, 5pm, £7–£10 (£6–£9). Sooz Kempner: Character Activist ●●●●● Like tightrope walking and bomb disposal, character comedy requires precision to achieve its ideal goal: to subvert! After focusing in last year’s show on her failed audition for Wicked, this time Kempner presents herself as four different characters,
including a ditsy Essex girl and an enthusiastic regional sportswoman. So far, so satire-by-numbers, while she never misses the chance to prove she can belt out a tune, something the ‘real’ Sooz is only too happy to highlight during one of the very-meta mid-act links. (Emma Newlands) Just the Tonic @ The Mash House, 226 0000, until 30 Aug (not 18), 6.20pm, free. Spencer Jones Presents: The Herbert in Proper Job ●●●●● Jones’ joyous extravaganza of prop-led bonkersness is all too brief. Finding the words to describe it is a struggle, finding it amusing was definitely not. Performing in character as ‘The Herbert’, who straddles childish glee and the confusion of adulthood, it’s mime but with songs and children’s toys that can talk. Delivered with an often-maniacal grin, The Herbert’s adventures show flashes of early ‘90s Vic ’n’ Bob and Mr Bean. (Emma Newlands) Heroes @ The Hive, 226 0000, until 31 Aug (not 18, 25), 9pm, £5 (or Pay What You Want). Stuart Black: Lemsip & Cigarettes ●●●●● Angry, dishevelled comedians used to be a cliché, but now Black is one of a dying breed. He has lived the life and brought the t-shirt. By way of introduction he explains this is his tenth Fringe but his first without Prozac. This is a story of redemption and cleaning up his act, as Black stacks up various roots to happiness before knocking them down. Pitch black but spectacularly smart. (Henry Northmore) Laughing Horse @ The Free Sisters, 622 6801, until 30 Aug (not 17, 24), 10.15pm, free. The Sunny Side Show ●●●●● Liverpool comic Keith Carter is Peter, an amusing, nice-but-dim posho parody. It’s likeable enough stuff, but uneven, and the character isn’t strong enough to carry a whole hour of comedy. Having fallen on hard times, Peter has ended up at the Sunny Side Hostel, and for part of the show he talks about the various colourful characters that he’s met there, giving the distinct impression it might have been more fun to meet them than just hear about them. (Laura Ennor) Just the Tonic @ The Mash House, 226 0000, until 30 Aug (not 18), 3pm, £5–£6 (£3.50–£4.50; family ticket £14–£18). Thünderbards ●●●●● Sketch duo Glenn Moore and Matt Stevens return with their third consecutive instalment of Thünderbards. This year, they’re trying to save an Edinburgh library from demolition, using books plucked from the shelves as the starting point for skits. The early routines use well-trodden comic material eg. self-service checkouts, signing cards for unknown colleagues. Once the duo have found their stride the references back to earlier jokes build a show with depth and their chemistry shines. (Rowena McIntosh) Underbelly Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 30 Aug, 5pm, £8.50–£10 (£7–£9). Tiff Stevenson: Mad Man●●●●● It’s not in Stevenson’s nature to do things by halves, so she’s decided to tackle the big four all in one show. Sexism, racism, sexuality and body image are jammed into Mad Man to try and understand exactly what makes a person. Confidence is her strong point and when she does self-deprecation the humour isn’t lost in wallowing. Going down so many different avenues means the hour is disjointed, but her intelligent call-backs and continuing threads keep everything together. (Kirstyn Smith) The Stand 6, 558 7272, until 29 Aug (not 17), 4.05pm, £10 (£8). Twins: Pret a Comedy ●●●●● Annie McGrath and Jack Barry might not look like twins, but they absolutely are: promise. Tragedy has unfolded though, as one of them is about to die (in exactly one hour, incredibly) and so they tick off the items on their bucket list. Cue a pleasantly daft affair featuring the northern lights, superheroism and a really mean bandit. (Brian Donaldson) Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug (not 17 & 18, 24), midnight, free.