Festival Comedy list.co.uk/festival
RAY GREEN The 3D adventures of a two-bit character ●●●●●
Ray Green is an unabashed serial bumbler and the alter ego of Preston- born Dave Gibson. With a down-to- earth Northern charm and a moustache – the latter comes in handy when reaffirming your virility or being mugged, apparently – Gibson/Green’s hour of a televisual journey into his desperate and disaster-prone career moves is a delight. As a disgraced television personality, Green tries everything from appearing on Dragon’s Den to becoming a superhero in order to reclaim his fame.
The set relies heavily on pre- recorded clips, but Green makes regular appearances in 3D (and you don’t even need those funny glasses) as he lists the components of a first- rate comedy show, proceeding to blunder through them in a lovably blustering fashion. The only real turn- off in the performance comes with the finale, as Green warbles through a song in less than dulcet tones. Overall, however, his assertively self- deprecating and cheerfully hopeless persona is shored up by natural wit and intuitive comic timing. Unlike his character, Dave Gibson’s career looks highly promising. (Rebecca Ross) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 30 Aug, 3.15pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7.50–£8.50).
JASON COOK Well-crafted, life-affirming stuff ●●●●● It’s a cliché that comedians just want to be loved, but Jason Cook tries awfully hard to endear himself. Welcoming the audience into The End (Part 1), he lightly teases a few individuals, joshes with a reviewer he recognises and seeks advice and reassurance about his material
30 THE LIST 19–26 Aug 2010
throughout. All the time he gently (and successfully) cajoles, nudges and flatters the crowd into liking him, so when he mentions terrible things he has done, the effect is of a loveable rogue rather than an animal-torturing, emotionally-stunted manchild. By similar sleight-of-hand, the genial Geordie’s seemingly haphazard show belies a tightly structured core. Around the premise of re-evaluating
life after a brush with death run digressions and narratives covering relationships, the comedy business, arguing techniques and Gok Wan, tied together with cross-references and call-backs that never feel forced. Some of the material is less than revelatory but delivered with such apparent honesty and emotion that Cook is impossible not to like. He may be a high maintenance partner, as evidenced by a letter he reads from his wife, but as a comedian he makes it easy. (Suzanne Black) ■ The Stand III & IV, 558 7272, until 29 Aug, 3pm, £8 (£7).
JARRED CHRISTMAS Personal set from personable stand-up ●●●●●
With a surname like Christmas, it’s a no-brainer that this Kiwi had to grow up defending himself. And defend himself he does, about his penchant for dance, Michael Jackson fandom and less-than-svelte physique. The jokes come quickly and easily, and Christmas’ mix of the off-hand comment and the tightly-crafted joke is a hilarious combination. He struts his sweaty stuff with surprising dexterity when lampooning his dance lessons, but latecomers beware: he will unashamedly bare his chest at you. Christmas is a likeable guy with a quick mind and a talent for easy but never obvious jokes, and the audience laughs along as he shares his temptation at the birth certificate registrar’s office and roars at his recollection of a brief brush with infamy from an appearance on Big Brother’s Big Mouth. His comedy isn’t
observational, but personal, and the laughs come from a familiarity with the situations he describes, though not everyone is a comedian struggling to fill out government forms. Christmas is robustly funny, his delivery confident and his show not to be missed. (Carmody Wilson) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 30 Aug, 8pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8.50–£9.50).
SEANN WALSH Making the humdrum hilarious ●●●●● If you were to sit down and read a full synopsis of Seann Walsh’s debut hour, it might come across as the dullest thing ever. The subjects he takes as his inspiration for comedy would make Michael McIntyre seem like the merged resurrection of Bill Hicks and Mitch Hedberg. When you hear Walsh set up a gag about falling asleep while standing up on public transport or how you should react when tripping over while walking down the street, it would be perfectly understandable if your legs were to involuntarily
thrust you towards the exit door.
But somehow, Walsh pulls magical wordplay or a perfectly judged physical gag out of the fire even when he’s talking about people-watching or going through his list of people he’d love to randomly punch. Indeed, there’s a burning rage going on in Walsh’s stage persona which would certainly serve him well should he ever wish to take on weightier subjects. For now, let’s be content to just sit back and revel in how the ordinary can sometimes be hilarious. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug, 8.30pm, £11–£12 (£9.50–£11).