FESTIVAL COMEDY | Reviews
I
T A D L O S A M M E G
: O T O H P
P H O T O
: J A N E H O B S O N
NATALIE PALAMIDES: LAID Nurturing theatrical comedy from surrealist act ●●●●●
Underneath the Alice in Wonderland ribbons and twee mannerisms lurks an expert messer. Natalie Palamides is a young surrealist comedian from Pittsburgh who’s been training lately with the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre, an improv troupe co-founded by Amy Poehler, with members including Broad City’s Ilana and Abbi, Maria Bamford and Zach Galifianakis.
Palamides’ Fringe debut is dark and original, one gory scene
in particular is so creepily well-executed it might still be bringing on wincing flashbacks days later. Starting out deliberately slow, with Palamides hatching from a giant egg, she explores the scene with Snow White innocence. There’s an excellent tension that grows between little girl gaucheness and an utterly in-control evil puppetmaster, pulling her audience’s strings with very finessed nonchalance. Her squeaky voice morphs well into cartoony children and Gone With the Wind Southern belles, and echoes the sinister but sweet style of New York comedian Kristen Schaal. She’s written the whole show around eggs, pulling them from
an endless hidden stash up her skirt. Every day she lays one and faces the same dilemma: should she eat it or nurture it? Using the eggs as a loaded, edible metaphor, she explores femininity, motherhood, abandonment, romance, cooking and paedophilia, all while splattering her tarp-covered set with yolk and shaving foam.
An experimental theatre show with (occasionally forced) audience participation, LAID is unsettling comedy played with just the right amount of surprises and sassypants confidence. Although many of the Upright Citizens Brigade have gone on to do mainstream TV and films, Natalie Palamides is still having fun in the weirdo hinterlands of comedy; but it feels like she could turn her hand to that stuff too if she wanted. Who knows what else she has up her sleeve (or frilly knickers)? (Claire Sawers) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, until 27 Aug, 4.15pm, £10–£12 (£9–£11).
P H O T O
:
S C O T T M C L E A N
MARK THOMAS: A SHOW THAT GAMBLES ON THE FUTURE Political comic keeps up high standards ●●●●●
NEXT BEST THING: HOW TO BE GOOD AT EVERYTHING Sketch show with a lack of commitment ●●●●● MARK FORWARD WINS ALL THE AWARDS Excellence with a dash of absurdity ●●●●●
After last year’s incredible theatre show, The Red Shed, Mark Thomas returns to the Fringe with more traditional stand-up fair. We’re here, Thomas tells us, to work together as a group. Our job is to vote (with our cheers) for the best prediction of the future proffered by fellow audience members pre-show.
And by ‘best’, he doesn’t mean what we’d like to see (Corbyn as prime minister, Trump assassinated, one woman’s marriage not ending in divorce: yes, sometimes the predictions get pretty personal), but which one we think is most likely to occur. It’s a fun concept, and one which is certainly boosting the coffers of Paddy Power, where Thomas heads with the £1 bet donations after each show. And at some point in the future, should our group prediction come good, a charity somewhere will benefit. Compared to the heart-stopping suspension and
heart-breaking tenderness of The Red Shed, this show might seem a little slight. But he’s still Mark Thomas, which means we’re treated to the best kind of political rantings, underscored by some moving memories of a young Thomas growing up in the shadow of his violent father. (Kelly Apter) ■ Summerhall, until 27 Aug (not 19), 6pm, £15 (£12).
44 THE LIST FESTIVAL 17–28 Aug 2017
Sketch comedy double-act Jay Bennett and Katie Davison promise a seminar of sorts in which the audience will leave knowing everything. Faux- workshops with cringeworthy management-speak and a David Brent-style lack of awareness are an established comedy genre. This show, despite the advertising blurb, is not that. It morphs into a mime performance before jumping again to skits relying on ‘volunteers’, then some pee, poop and sex stuff, with a song to top it all off. It ends up as a mish-mash of genres that doesn’t commit to the seminar format; the mime and sketches have no clear through-line, and there are lulls during an episode involving an imaginary hat and the return to the poo motif. Katie, as the sexually repressed braggart trying to keep everything on track, and Jay, as the sex- obsessed fool who unwittingly derails her efforts, have great rapport and the moments that developed their relationship were more-ish. Unfortunately, the best material on the day of this review was contributed by audience members whose bemusement and animosity towards the duo’s antics inspired them to make their own entertainment. (Suzanne Black) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, until 28 Aug, 4.45pm, £7.50–£9.50 (£6.50–£9).
Like fellow Canadian Tony Law, Mark Forward is a surrealist comedian who constructs bizarre narratives in service of precisely engineered laughs. Even the most seemingly throwaway gag is later revealed to be part of a greater whole, so a sketch about buttering bread segues into a ridiculous radio commercial before ending up as an elaborate musical number.
Forward is evidently well aware of how absurd
he’s being, often unable to keep a straight face and frequently breaking off to mockingly reprimand the crowd for not fully indulging him (tonight’s audience is clearly delineated between those who are onboard and those who are not). Constantly prowling around the audience, there’s a tangible sense of anticipation about how far he might go for a laugh. Some of his strongest material calls to mind the early work of Rhod Gilbert, particularly his intricate conjecture on what would happen if a bear went to heaven. A fantastic reinterpretation of a classic children’s rhyme serves as the perfect way to conclude this glorious hour, before Forward outdoes himself by throwing his all into a barnstorming ending that finally unites the whole room. (Murray Robertson) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, until 27 Aug, 8.15pm, £10.50–£11.50 (£9.50–£10.50).