Festival Comedy
ASHER TRELEAVEN A comically theatrical romp against rabid and empty blokishness
Via ‘the sweet filth of John Waters, the dark, strange wrongness of David Lynch’, and a near-encounter with the secret theatre for madmen, Asher Treleaven grapples with the question, ‘what maketh the man?’ This is the core of his ‘anarchic romp through the minefield of sexual identity’, Secret Door. ‘The issue of masculinity is important because in Australia and, I believe, in the UK, it’s a very simplistic, follow-the-herd idea that is enforced with growing violence and a strong animosity toward difference and self- expression. For Treleaven, he is concerned that the herd is trying to scare and pressure others to be like them.
‘It shits me that I can’t walk down the street in most Australian cities late at night without worrying about being hassled for dressing a certain way. I find it distressing that drinking, violence and obesity are all normal for most masculine cultures, in the UK
MINIPROFILE
SEAN HUGHES Who’s he then? Sean Hughes was the youngest ever winner of the Perrier back in 1990 at the tender age of 24. At the time he was told that he would be inundated with big-money offers and would continually be swept away to fancy dinners. He moaned that in the wake of this victory, the only call he had received was from his flatmate apologising for eating his Twix. He’ll have done loads of TV since then? Indeed, and they range from the sublime to the ridiculous. Sean’s Show was a wildly playful postmodern sitcom on Channel 4, which paid its dues to two of his heroes, Morrissey and Samuel Beckett, while he’s also appeared in Coronation Street, teamed up with Peter Davison in The Last Detective and gave his voice over to a toy shark in kids’ show Rubbadubbers. What’s his show called this year? It’s Ducks and Other Mistakes I’ve Made. Intriguingly, or otherwise, he’s playing the Gilded Balloon’s Debating Hall at 8pm up until 19 Aug. The night after, another Irish Perrier winner, Tommy Tiernan, takes to that very same stage for his run. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, 7–19 Aug, 8pm, £14–£15 (£12–£13). Previews until 6 Aug, £10.
44 THE LIST 5–12 Aug 2010
‘average, pound-shop dandy’ cannot help but intrigue. (Kate Gould) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, 7–30 Aug (not 10, 17), 8.40pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9). Previews until 6 Aug, £5.
NAT LUURTSEMA A tea-obsessed daydreamer gets heroic
‘I remember eating my second battered haggis of the day in the dark so it “wasn’t really happening”,’ confesses Nat Luurtsema, recalling last year’s Fringe experience, at which she starred in sketch hit Superclump. This London-based, self-proclaimed ‘tea-sodden clown’, Chortle Best Newcomer nominee and Funny Women runner-up, returns this summer with her debut solo show, In My Head I’m a Hero. It is, according to our cerebral stand-up, ‘a true story, a tale of my messy past. I have artefacts as some things demand proof. It’s funny and sad.’ If previous routines are anything to go by, it’ll also be stoked by twisted philosophies, rabid imaginings, fantasy fiction – and dinosaurs. ‘The first time I saw Jurassic Park,
my mind turned inside out. I fell in love.
I wish life was battles and monsters.’ Is it true she was once so busy daydreaming on a train that someone stole her purse from her lap? ‘How do you know this?’ she shrieks. ‘Have you got my mum drunk?’ The List is a fearless upholder of journalistic integrity and will not reveal its sources, even under torture. ‘Well yes, that did happen,’ she concedes. ‘I daydream constantly.’ (Nicola Meighan) ■ Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, 7–30 Aug (not 28), 3.45pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8). Previews until 6 Aug, £5.
and overseas. Basically, most men are jerks and I want to make fun of them and their violent stupidity.’ A graduate of the Australian National Institute of Circus Arts and a lover of the burlesque, naughty and surreal, Treleaven was once flagellated onstage to ‘Private Dancer’. This
GREG DAVIES We Are Klang’s Rik Mayall-alike in his debut solo outing
Greg Davies is keen to avoid the pitfall of self-obsession in his stand-up. So keen, in fact, that he’s chosen to present a Fringe show this year that side steps any moments of significance in his life. ‘I’m sick of thinking about wider philosophical points,’ he shouts down the phone. ‘I’m sick of trying to work out my place in the world, and to make sense of humanity. I’m not going to do it. I am simply celebrating moments in my entire life that have had no bearing on anything else.’
As one third of gloriously immature comedy trio We Are Klang, it’s no surprise that Davies is embracing inanity in this way, though his show is unique in its focus on the subject of nothingness. Its title, Firing Cheeseballs at a Dog, is a reference to Davies’s most recent high point of empty-headed happiness.
‘I was on holiday with Marek [Larwood, also of We Are Klang]. There was a dog, a bag of cheeseballs and a catapult, and we spent a really happy period in all our lives firing cheeseballs at that dog. Cheeseballs can’t hurt, so there’s no need for animal rights activists to get upset with me. The dog was delighted to have someone firing food of it. So I think we all came out of that happy.
Our lives were richer, definitely.’
A conscious lack of substance is not the only thing
that’s different about Davies’ stage delivery. He’s traded for many years on his unique appearance. ‘Like a fat Rik Mayall,’ he describes himself – plus, he’s 6 foot 8 inches tall. After years of hearing them, and making them, are there any tall jokes that he still thinks are funny? ‘No, I think that all of the ones that I’ve talked about in
my stand-up for years are utterly tedious. My favourite is, where I come from in Shropshire, they don’t even attempt to craft it into a joke. They just shout the word, “tall” at me in the street. In fact, that’s my preferred tall joke. One that isn’t a joke, just a statement of fact.’ And what about We Are Klang? With his ongoing role
as bullying teacher Mr Gilbert in Channel 4’s The Inbetweeners, and a solo tour after his Edinburgh show, will he find time to rejoin the Klang trio?
‘I literally, half an hour ago, just pushed two lemon meringue doughnuts into [third Klang member] Steve Hall’s face underneath the BBC television centre sign,’ he reassures. ‘And if that isn’t proof of an active sketch unit then I don’t know what is.’ (Jonny Ensall) ■ Greg Davies: Firing Cheeseballs at a Dog, Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, 7-29 Aug (not 9 & 10), 9.45pm, £9.50-£10.50 (£8-£9). Previews 4-6 Aug, £5.