list.co.uk/festival Reviews | FESTIVAL COMEDY
NORTHERN POWER BLOUSE Gleeful plundering of stereotypes ●●●●●
JULIO TORRES: MY FAVOURITE SHAPES Trinket-laden assessment of the US ●●●●● ELLIOT STEEL: NEAR LIFE EXPERIENCE Potential-filled hour from young comic ●●●●●
Cassie Atkinson, Kat Butterfield and Charlotte Pearson are a trio of writers and performers, all sharing a fondness for a synthetic, 1980s patterned blouse. The threesome bring a hit-and- miss, bargain multipack of sketches, where they work their way through a checklist of Northern stereotypes about pies, coal mines, gravy, flat caps, Alan Bennett and Morrissey.
There’s also a female slant to much of what they do, with lots of the gags revolving around beauty treatments, advertising and the invisibility of certain women when they either hit middle age or don a beige fleece with the magical ability to shield them from unwanted attention from men.
Their knack for serving up a buffet spread of regional accents and rubbery facial expressions is impressive, although some of the skits let them down with weaker, wobbly writing. DC IBS, trying to solve crimes while suffering from stomach pain and bloating doesn’t quite hit the spot; but a twist on George Formby’s banjo song where he ends up in court after spying on women while cleaning windows gets bigger laughs. Although their talents are obvious, a rushed pace dilutes the quality. Still, the lasses are good company. (Claire Sawers) ■ Opium, until 26 Aug (not 15, 22), 3.45pm, free.
Julio Torres sits behind a desk littered with glittering baubles among other objects. A phone camera magnifies his hands’ manipulation of each item with the resulting images displayed on a big screen. The young Brooklynite, by way of El Salvador, selects a piece and accompanies it with a name, a joke, an observation, a story. Ostensibly he is working through a catalogue of his favourite shapes, like the David Attenborough of the tchotchke.
Moving from political commentary to whimsy through non-sequiturs to observational titbits (that occasionally don’t land as well on this side of the pond), his rollcall of artefacts is juxtaposed with the spectre of the US’s current political situation.
As an immigrant and artist, Torres suggests he is the antithesis of Trump voters. Projecting a delicate presence underpinned with an iron confidence in his abilities, Torres reminds us that while politics defines the landscape, we can reclaim what lies within it. It is a great misfortune then that, given the diminutive size of many of his trinkets, it’s often difficult to see them as the lower third of the screen is not clearly visible from the back rows. (Suzanne Black) ■ Underbelly Cowgate, until 27 Aug (not 14), 5pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8.50–£9.50).
Totally likeable and very nearly great, Elliot Steel gives a pretty enjoyable performance. Credit is due to a performer who gets the audience onside from the off, something Steel does easily with his charm and gift of the gab. With his strong London accent, the Croydon comic tells a well-meaning and entertaining tale of his transition into adulthood in the digital age.
The show’s content encompasses social media
habits, millennial behaviours, relationships and what it means to finally grow up. At times, however, it’s perhaps a bit over-ambitious in its scope, as Steel jumps between narrative threads too quickly, though he does pull it together with a neat wrap-up in the final section. Steel is genuine but nervous. If he could relax into
the performance then it might eliminate the few jarring moments of fluffed words or slightly meandering stories. The focus of the show needs tightening – it feels as if there’s a point trying to be made here, but it’s maybe a slightly confused one. Still, this remains a promising hour from a talented 20-year-old observational comedian who has bags of potential. (Kenza Marland) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, until 27 Aug (not 14), 8.15pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9).
BOB SLAYER: WHATEVER NEXT? Loveably chaotic master of one unique Fringe experience after another ●●●●●
Frankly everyone at the Fringe should pop in and spend an hour with Bob Slayer on the top deck of his bus. Last year one of Slayer’s main projects was organising the reading of the entire Chilcot Report into the Iraq War, which took almost two weeks and won the Edinburgh Comedy Award’s panel prize. So, Whatever Next? It’s a very good point. How do you follow that? Slayer hasn’t a clue either.
What he talks about from one show to the next will inevitably change, so freewheeling is the experience. Though one sure-fire and hilarious constant will be his fresh-faced newly qualified legal adviser sat alongside him throughout the show: anyone familiar with Slayer’s work will know that this is certainly a very wise move.
Slayer reminds his adviser that they still need to conduct a proper briefing, including a chat about the fact that Slayer almost got sued in 2011. Legal begins to look worried. It won’t be for the first time during the run. This reminder provokes an anecdote about Cockgate when posters around the Fringe ‘mysteriously’ had penis stickers stuck to them. Being core to such stunts has made Slayer a name for himself as something of an agitator extraordinaire in August. That said, he’s an extremely productive one as he now runs four venues full of extraordinary acts, capturing the Fringe’s true spirit each year.
The skilled raconteur goes on to chat about his dad’s chickens, other people he’s annoyed and, surprisingly, even ends on a poignant note. It’s also an eye-opener that he manages to wrap up his show on time and without leaving any narrative loose ends dangling. This pretty much sums him up: loveably chaotic but still able to get the job done. (Marissa Burgess) ■ Heroes @ Bob’s Blundabus, until 27 Aug (not 9, 16, 23), 6.15pm, £5 (£3) or Pay What You Want.
10–17 Aug 2017 THE LIST FESTIVAL 57