FESTIVAL COMEDY | Reviews
AHIR SHAH: MACHINES An emotional dissection about the paths we choose and those who stand in our way ●●●●●
Ahir Shah has been working steadily towards producing an hour of stand-up as powerful as Machines for a number of years now. His brand of unapologetic liberal-left cage-rattling has always been energising for its vaulting ambition and wrestling with ideas (and sizzling quality of the jokes, of course). But this time around an emotional heft has been loaded on; being caught up in the carnage and chaos of Paris last November has given him a real perspective on the world affairs he has long discussed in his work.
Shah’s overall thesis is that we all stand at a crucial moment in our historical and social development. There are wonderful possibilities ahead in the future, but too many reactionary groups (Islamic State, the Brexit lot, those voting for America’s ‘orange Hitler’, and previously peaceful groups who have suddenly gone a bit wrong) want to drag us back to archaic and pessimistic pasts. He still has personal issues to contend with, worrying that he might drink a little too much from time to time, and concerned about the inevitable contradictions in holding his political views against a fondness for being treated with fawning respect in Waitrose. Feeling that he (like everyone else) might just be winging it at all times, it’s a belief in hope that manages to drive him on. Shah has always had a burning passion at his fingertips and
the gags to back up his fire, but everything appears to have crystallised wonderfully in Machines. The dishing out of awards can become something of a wild-eyed obsession for critics and comics alike in August. Whether he is bestowed with any shiny garlands before this month is out will actually matter not one jot, for Ahir Shah has now got himself on a path to somewhere far greater. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Laughing Horse at Cabaret Voltaire, 247 4704, until 28 Aug, 1.30pm, free.
GIANTS Tall stories from a talented sketch pair ●●●●● TOM BALLARD: THE WORLD KEEPS HAPPENING A directionless but amiable hour ●●●●●
Definitely not a Fringe show quickly cobbled together on the train up from London, Will Hislop and Barney Fishwick’s sketch show is tightly woven and precision-timed, smartly self-aware but capable of dishing out big, daft laughs too. They seem painfully aware that a duo of young, white men on the Fringe is not a novelty; neither are precociously talented Oxford graduates, so they dish out mild abuse to themselves on both fronts early on for ice- breaking, favour-currying purposes.
The apologetic theme continues: one skit sees the friends (they’ve known each other for over 20 years) make unconvincing attempts to mask their charmed upbringings with slummy boasts about living in a sinkhole (it’s a cottage, really), and in another, whiny meninists preach #notallmen. There are a few lukewarm scenes that don’t get going, but plenty very nice touches with an inappropriate satellite delay between a TV studio and a war correspondent, subtitles in a made-up language and a stern Scottish father who can’t believe his son doesn’t ballroom dance. Promising humour from fledgling giants, who’ll no doubt grow a bit in stature from this Fringe run. (Claire Sawers) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 28 Aug (not 15), 3.15pm, £7.50–£9.50 (£6.50–£8.50).
56 THE LIST FESTIVAL 11–18 Aug 2016
Appearing at the same venue at the same time as last year is, Tom Ballard says, a clear sign of career plateau. Which would be true had he not been nominated for the Best Newcomer award for his 2015 debut Taxis & Rainbows & Hatred. If that’s a career plateau, we’re all screwed. This year’s offering feels less fully formed while a first-Saturday-of-the-Fringe audience probably doesn’t help: pretty good material about being a feminist doesn’t really go down as well as Ballard seems to hope, so he switches back to a less divisive topic: immigration . . .
He works well with the audience, his easy-going Aussie charm inviting friendly heckles, and we’re onside to the point where, after calling an older lady in the front row ‘bitch’, everyone cheers. The main thread of The World Keeps Happening seems to be politics and he dips in and out of the subject, tackling Brexit, Tony Abbott and Trump, but hops on to the next topic a little too sharply. In a way this works, as things do keep moving, but, punchy as it might be, the show suffers from a lack of direction. (Kirstyn Smith) ■ Assembly George Square, 623 3030, until 28 Aug (not 15), 9.15pm, £10.50–£12 (£9.50–£11).
ALI BRICE PRESENTS HOME IS WHERE ERIC MEAT IS Surreal hour with flashes of quality but too many laugh-free zones ●●●●●
Eric Meat is an odd character. He’s selling his home and trying to erase all happy memories of the time he spent there in order to ease his existential angst. Off the bat, he's keen to get the audience involved, so if your idea of fun is not a competition to see who can hold a sliced onion next to their eye for the longest time or downing 3.5 litres of orange squash from a bucket, then try to be inconspicuous. This meandering, manic hour weaves Meat's
memories (which he stores in a mug: well, of course he does) with his present situation. He becomes Francine, a Pythonesque pepper pot character he once loved, and, in an inspired if creepily surreal flash, the very first Werther's Original who is due to eat his first grandpa.
For Meat, Ali Brice is channelling a bit of Alan Partridge and a touch of Adam Riches, but taking his jokes off in ridiculous directions doesn’t always guarantee laughs. This feels like an unfinished show but root around and there are threads of genius. The problem is that Brice pulls too hard on them and by the end everything has unravelled. (Kirstyn Smith) ■ Heroes at the Hive, 226 0000, until 28 Aug, 2.10pm, £5 or Pay What You Want.