list.co.uk/festival Reviews | FESTIVAL COMEDY
P H O T O :
S T E V E U L L A T H O R N E
P H O T O :
S T E V E U L L A T H O R N E
ESHAAN AKBAR: PROPHET LIKE IT’S HOT Poking Islam without jeopardy ●●●●●
MOON Eerie but finely honed boiler-suited comedy ●●●●● DAMIAN CLARK Aussie comedian is masterful about being a new dad ●●●●●
Eshaan Akbar is a lapsed Muslim, and brings us a show that seeks to help out Islam during the current PR crisis that he thinks they’re going through. He’s read the Qu’ran back to front (boom! boom!) so is able to dip into his copy and read aloud passages that could potentially be spun, for good or for evil. Moon are no ordinary sketch duo. Maybe it’s something to do with their provincial upbringings, but they now exist in an infinitely strange and totally wonderful little world. They begin by inviting us to order a curry with them, the doctored menu allowing for the first of the more straight observations in the show.
As the British child of Bangladeshi-Pakistani Describing themselves as ‘immersive’, Jack Chisnall
parents, Akbar addresses some of the more problematic aspects of the religion he was raised with, or at least the bits that are most open to abuse. So, for example, the notion that women are the property of men gets a quick unpacking; he brings up a passage with the message that the onus should be on men to look upon women respectfully, rather than blame them for turning them on.
As he says himself, it’s often not about laughing and more about learning. So with that said, Prophet Like It’s Hot is an entertaining, if not quite side- splitting chance to find out more about the five pillars of Islam, hear about the point-collecting scheme to get into heaven, and discover Allah’s needier, petulant sides without fear of starting any holy wars. (Claire Sawers) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, until 26 Aug (not 15), 2.45pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9).
and Joshua Dolphin are tinkering with the sketch format, using the audience a touch but also pushing the boundaries of the space, both heading off into the crowd and also leaving the room completely for a while. The skits blend slickly but eerily into each other– usually by twisting a noise from one to the next, which elicits a laugh before they’ve even started. But it’s not all about the gimmick, and not one segment ends with a lame punchline.
There’s an other-worldly quality here, too; maybe it’s the sinister, stark white boiler-suits they sport: after all, we all know the bad things that can happen when guys wear that item of clothing. If that wasn’t enough to fit into an hour they throw in a bunch of highbrow references, though not to the point of inaccessibility. Magical stuff. (Marissa Burgess) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, until 27 Aug, 9.30pm, £7.50–£9.50 (£6.50–£9).
Despite the show's ambiguous title, Extra Show, Damian Clark should have renamed it something along the lines of ‘The Dad Diaries’ with his Fringe hour detailing the ups and downs of becoming a first- time father. Clark muses on why adults make baby noises when they talk to infants, why others love to ask the weight of a new-born (hint: it’s not to do with the child), and why in 2018 the only way to know you’re pregnant is to pee on a stick. Throughout his set, the Aussie firebrand tells rapid-
fire jokes, barely even coming up for air let alone a sip of water. His fast delivery and ability to blend lines from 40 minutes ago into new jokes is impressive, and he creates an energy that the crowd immediately connects with.
The story about going to buy a car as a present for his pregnant wife but unfortunately ending up in jail is a highlight of the hour. Clark weaves anecdotes, with jokes, asides, movement and general goofiness that sets him out as a masterful comic storyteller. As he proceeds through the show, you keep expecting the next joke not to be as spot-on as the last one: but it always is. (Katharine Gemmell) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, until 26 Aug, 10pm, £10–£11 (£8–£9).
ALEX EDELMAN: JUST FOR US Another excellent hour from Boston’s finest ●●●●●
If you were faced with a line-up of 20 people which included Alex Edelman and were asked to pick out the person who went undercover at a neo-Nazi meeting, you’d possibly have the comic as perhaps the most 18th likely; maybe 15th at best. Yet, here he is, on stage, telling us how he went all full-metal Theroux, by slipping largely unnoticed into a New York apartment which housed a number of far-right activists, including an eightysomething jigsaw-puzzle addict. Just for Us – Edelman’s third Fringe hour after the Best Newcomer-
winning Millennial and its equally strong follow-up, Everything Handed to You – is a show of many parts, all of which are mercurially brought together by this confident almost 30-year-old. Kicking off with the story of the late Koko the Gorilla being told of the death of her friend Robin Williams and ending with Edelman just about escaping from that meeting alive when he lets slip about his Jewishness (some of the people in that room had already figured it out): is he drawing a comparison between an empathetic simian and hateful anti-Semites?
Insisting that all he does is ‘dumb jokes’, the gravelly voiced Bostonian recalls the moment when he decided to write a show that had a little more heft than his previous Fringe hours, when his eyes were opened in a conversation with Bridget Christie. Just for Us isn’t all about a comic’s awakening and their subsequent actions, though, it also features celebrity encounters with Stephen Fry and Prince William, discusses how sexy the last few US presidents have been (spoiler alert: the incumbent does not fare too well), pokes fun at his twin brother’s sporting accomplishments (he’s appeared at the Winter Olympics for Israel in the skeleton event) and the toxic side to social media.
For 60 whole minutes, Alex Edelman keeps the momentum going and has his crowd knee-deep in laughs with a show that reveals him to be far more than a ‘dumb joke’ machine. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, until 26 Aug, 8pm, £10–£14.
15–27 Aug 2018 THE LIST FESTIVAL 47