FESTIVAL COMEDY | Reviews
P H O T O
: J A M E S D E A C O N
P H O T O :
S T E V E U L L A T H O R N E
ANDREW LAWRENCE: CLEAN Self-deprecating hour which fails to spark ●●●●●
It’s almost four years since Andrew Lawrence posted a lengthy diatribe on his Facebook page decrying what he perceived as a cultural assault on right-wing politics and on his right to offend. There followed a series of spats between him and a number of his contemporaries such as Dara Ó Briain and Frankie Boyle with TV work drying up after Lawrence lambasted ‘aging, balding, fat men, ethnic comedians and women-posing-as-comedians’. Meanwhile, his Twitter feed descended into a vicious echo chamber as conservative zealots championed the comedian as one of their own. Lawrence was unrepentant.
So you might think you should approach Clean with trepidation, wary of this firebrand provocateur. Not so. Lawrence is so self- deprecating that he’d probably consider that description too lofty. He bemoans his appearance, his voice and, oddly, his material. Only passing reference is made to the fact that he used to feature on TV, and that in years gone by he’d have filled a room like this. Perhaps having a two-year-old daughter has given him some perspective on life; she certainly contributes his best material. Otherwise, this is a pretty hackneyed set. For a comedian who’s been plying his trade for 15 years, Lawrence’s writing lacks precision. His metaphors are unimaginative and there’s no spark.
Towards the end, he claims that in these litigious times it’s unsafe for a comedian to take risks and cause offence. ‘I tried to keep it clean tonight,’ he deadpans. Indeed he did: this is one of the few shows in the comedy section that would offend practically no one. But having alienated swathes of his fanbase with those previous antics, and courted a sizeable following from people who rail against the prevalence of left-wing comedy, it’s hard to see who this new Andrew Lawrence will appeal to. (Murray Robertson) ■ Assembly George Square Studios, until 26 Aug, 8.10pm, £10–£12 (£8–£10).
P H O T O :
P R A K A S H D A N E L
I
EVELYN MOK: BUBBLE BUTT Anecdotes and chats fill an amiable hour ●●●●●
LAURA DAVIS: GHOST MACHINE A spirited show about identity and mortality. Possibly . . . ●●●●● CARL DONNELLY: STRICTLY CARL DONNELLY! An hour that resonates when it's fresh ●●●●●
The child of Chinese parents, brought up in Sweden and now living in the UK, Evelyn Mok has a rare perspective on the difference between the three cultures. Opening her new show Bubble Butt, she emphasises her love for how uncomfortable British people get around awkward conversations. And quickly proves her point after a reference to child grooming casts a hush over the room.
A Swedish upbringing meant contact with people who were comfortable in their bodies, including a nude teacher. Mok sets up some brilliant anecdotes about growing up looking different, including an identity crisis brought on by black Barbie. Her funny phrases, rolling of words for effect and easy chat shows a comedian very much in command.
The momentum drops in the later part of the hour,
there’s a segue back to her previous show where she catches up on being a late bloomer sexually while a #MeToo routine doesn’t have the pay-off to justify the build-up. Mok brings it back with a candid look at a genuinely uncomfortable incident from her past and leaves us on a song about the female equivalent of sweaty balls which, in very un-British fashion, everyone joins in with. (Rowena McIntosh) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, until 26 Aug, 6pm, £8–£10 (£7–£9).
56 THE LIST FESTIVAL 8–15 Aug 2018
Comedians are constantly wearing a second skin to deflect attention away from the real person on that stage. Usually this step is taken metaphorically but Australian comedian Laura Davis has gone the whole hog, and for her new hour’s bulk, is wearing a white sheet that covers her entire body. Two eyeholes are cut out which, with a slight adjustment, also doubles as an orifice so she can rehydrate throughout. Before you think the KKK have stormed the Fringe, fear not, the title Ghost Machine should give the game away. There’s something going on about hiding your true
self; perhaps a comment on the women who have finally come out of hiding to tell their scary tales of abuse? Davis herself reckons that men are more likely to listen to a ghost doing comedy than a woman.
But mortality is also at stake, and we are all permanently close to ‘existing’ in the spirit realm. ‘Why haven’t you killed yourself?’ she asks a few members of the audience in a move which might suggest callousness but is merely teasing out what people want to live for. A fascinating show with a message buried in there somewhere and, happily, a lot of laughs from this rising stand-up star. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Underbelly Cowgate, until 26 Aug (not 13), 5.40pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8.50–£9.50).
The setting of last year’s show may have been the 25-seater upper deck of Bob’s BlundaBus, but for 2018, Carl Donnelly is back in a more familiar performing environment. Here, he reminisces on the past decade of his life, questioning the big changes that have resulted in him straddling the intersections between a middle and working-class identity.
Donnelly has a tendency to go off on tangents and, the majority of the time, these digressions slot in well with his observational-style comedy. But where this doesn’t work is when the observation in question seems overused and all-too obvious. One example is his reflection on Queer Eye, which is humorous but wholly predictable if you’re a follower of memes and social media in-jokes of any kind. Despite this, his skills as a storyteller appear to come naturally. It’s entirely understandable then, that his ten years at the Fringe have included two Edinburgh Comedy Award nominations, numerous accolades and plenty of sell-out performances. As he returns to Edinburgh with this latest solo run, it’s safe to say his story is one that continues to resonate widely. (Arusa Qureshi) ■ Laughing Horse @ The Counting House, until 26 Aug (not 13), 6.45pm, donations.