DEMETRI MARTIN Geeky joke boy 00000

What’s made Demetri Martin so unusual over the last few years has been the brainiac, inward-looking, personal mental challenges he’s set himself. What made those unusual was the fact that he seemed to be acting on these geeky obsessions purely for his own childlike gratification; a beguiling contrast to lesser talents and their dreamed-up missions to entertain an increasingly jaded public.

So the notion of Martin’s new act - based on ‘telling jokes’ - is potentially disappointing, because one suspects that he’s selling himself short with the relative short-termism of the technique. But it seems this new direction is actually the by-product of the fact that this beaky, dark-eyed New Yorker has got himself a life. Only two years ago we saw the results of a sweet genius who spent way too much time alone. Now he doesn’t have quite so much time on his hands. Not for him sitting in his apartment coming up with the world’s longest palindrome: our little boy has grown up. Sheesh, he even does a joke about stuff

that happens at parties.

DARA O’BRIAIN Genial Irish fella makes us swell .00.

Being successful has its drawbacks. You have to play in a big hall. where intimacy is hard to generate and you need to remember which jokes yOU used on a TV programme the night before. Thankfully. a throwaway gag abOut Posh Spice aside. O'Briain manages not to repeat himself. What he does do is provide a great

Any initial apprehension about his plan to roll out tonnes of gags during the gig dissolves immediately though, for this man genuinely does look at words in

a special way. He spins out a symphony of meticulously embroidered two-liners with the help of a low-key multimedia system. Nearly every word he selects has been examined, turned over, stroked and nurtured to extract its multi-faceted poetic potential. For instance, he looks briefly at the tragically tough life of batteries: they work till they die. ‘They died in

my lap this morning, dude.’ He muses on how

difficult.

illustration of the stand-ups art. Many performers treat audience interaction as a game of one-upmanship. but the bulky. genial O'Briain pitches it perfectly: rather than shrivelling into their chairs. the objects of his banter

grow in confidence as the gig goes on.

By the end of the show the entire crowd seems swollen with merriment. O'Briain doesn't do anything too revolutionary he's too much of an entertainer for that but there are plenty of intelligent routines here. notany an extended riff on how awful it is for an Irish emigre to accept that he will have to love his children even if they grow up English. Elsewhere. he ponders the London bombings and worries about his age. shifting effortlessly from a raconteur's easy tone to a breakneck babble. It amounts to a heartwarming and often hilarious hour. If O'Briain can't put a spring in your step, no one will. (James Smart) I Assembly Rooms. 226 2428, until 29 Aug. 8.55pm, $72—$74 (fl 7—1313).

80 THE LIST FESTIVAL MAGAZINE 2f) Aug—8 Sep 2005

sending someone your regards via a third party is acceptable social intercourse but doing it in person is

Martin was losing his voice early on in this short Fringe run, but may well have the most adoring, easy audiences in town. How many comedy shows end in pleas for an encore these days? There may even be too much darn love in the room when he’s around, but so what? It makes you feel optimistic to know that people like Demetri Martin can have the world in the palm of their hands. (Ashley Davies)

I George Square Theatre, 662 8740. until 28 Aug, 9pm. £1 I—EIS ($70—$72).

DAVID O’DOI-IERTY Lo-fi whimsy and knockabout naming fun 00”

David O'Doherty is not a fan of the star system. Pouring your heart and soul into a six-month writing and performing process only for some daft reviewer to come along and lob some blobs beside his name and write some

cack-handed. disposable words is

nothing short of a gross insult to a creative project. Sorry David. prepare

for yet another slap around the ears in the shape of this four-blob review. The noble art of reviewing is just one thing that is constantly sticking in his Io-fi craw. Another is the fact that he has two namesakes giving him constant grief: the musical David O'Doherty and the professorial David O‘Doherty. This sequence follows an excellent opening in which he roams

around his stage discussing the ins

and outs of the venue. Although his talent for geeky organic musicianship can be taken as read. these noodly moments slow everything down and in the case of tonight. nudge a couple of sweltering punters into brief moments of slumber. While the comedy world should soon wake up to the obvious charms of the Fringe's second funniest Dubliner. he needs to hit a cooler venue for his more dozingly- challenged punters. (Brian Donaldson) I Gilded Balloon Tev/ot, 668 7633, until 28 Aug, 9.45pm, 88.50—29.50 (USO—£8.50).

KOPFRAPERS SYNDROME Bleak, black but bloody funny

Despite performing her debut one- woman show. Laura Solon looks like she's been at it for years. With barely a hint of tension. she kicks off her series of sketch dramas by plopping herself into a wheelchair to become an Australian woman who has been taken over by the spirit of the dead Diana. It's a notion that no doubt would upset the legions of acolytes still in thrall to the Queen of Hearts but one which is absolutely rife with material for bleak. black comedy.

Whether the other bunch of empty. Ioner saddos she portrays have the same kind of natural grounding for humour is debatable. The American motivational speaker with an extreme neurotic paranoia of everything to do with China doesn't immediately reek of funny while the cagoule-wearing. sweet-munching devotee of Andrew Lloyd Webber is almost a gift.

Whether coming from the obvious or the leftfield, Solon‘s writing and performances are virtually note—perfect.

with almost no climax predictable from

even the second last line. Had she kicked off her run at the start of the month instead of midway through. Solon wouldn’t have been able to move out of her Edinburgh flat for baubles blocking her door. (Brian Donaldson)

I Ho/yrood Tavern, 07947 697 987,

i until 28 Aug, 7.30pm, £6 (£5).

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