Festival Comedy list.co.uk/festival
NEXT ISSUE OUT WEDNESDAY 25 AUGUST DELETE THE BANJAX Hyped foursome not quite there yet ●●●●●
Having won over the crowds at last year’s Free Fringe, much was expected of Delete the Banjax with this, their debut paid-for August show. But as much as the quartet try, and boy do they try hard, their Pappy-like mucking-about and wild-eyed enthusiasm don’t quite save the day. Without resorting to colour-coded garments, as a collective they do have a reasonably distinctive look (a beardy, a lady, a gawky tall one and a gawkier, even taller one), and the foursome eke as much fun as they can out of their actorly and musical talents, greeting the audience like long-lost chums. Such an opening could have led to an intriguing dark twist; but no, it seems they were just greeting us like long-lost chums. Skits about a Scouse mime artist, and the relationship counsellors with (guess what) their own relationship problems, should have been binned at their first read-through, though the material about elephants, polar bears and goldfish worked most successfully. Perhaps an instance of too much too soon. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 30 Aug, 5.45pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8).
DOMMETT & LAMPAERT Material tossed aside for engaging tomfoolery ●●●●● The bubbling confidence of manic youthery shines through this knockabout gig as Joel Dommett and Eric Lampaert take turns in undermining the other’s half-hour(ish) set. Sending slickness home for the night with a tenner in its back pocket, this is a spirit-of-the-Fringe style affair
36 THE LIST 19–26 Aug 2010
with lots of lunging, liquid-spilling and general oafing about. It’s difficult to get a grip on who might emerge as the better stand-up talent, as it’s best to see this as a platform for the pair to gauge what might be expected once they get their paws on full hour-long sets. Regrettably, it will be impossible for
some time not to use the words ‘Russell’ and ‘Brand’ in the same sentence as the words ‘Eric’ and ‘Lampaert’, so uncannily similar are the speech patterns, hair and thrusting gangliness. He’s even done some work for MTV so you can expect him to show up for work dressed as a Saudi-born terror suspect any day now. Dommett’s enthusiasm is relentless while describing an incident with a theatre luvvie, and the pair’s contagious ebullience, rather than anything remotely like winning material, sends them off to a storming ovation. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Underbelly, 08445 458 252, until 29 Aug, 7.50pm, £9–£10 (£6.50–£9).
for GLASGOW COMEDY see page 114
EMO PHILIPS Over-familiar but still funny ●●●●●
Possibly the finest purveyor of paraprosdokians since Groucho Marx uttered his last quip returns to the Fringe for the first time since 2001. For those of you familiar with Philips, the face has aged and the dark hair is now lighter and greyer, but everything else is intact. The clothing is the same (you can see the same jacket in a YouTube clip from 1983), as is the wandering falsetto voice and the distinctive body movements. More worryingly, some of the jokes can be traced back a long way too.
With a show that consists almost exclusively of one-liners, it’s clear that a wealth of material is required and you expect the odd joke to remain, just not for 20 years. That said, the childlike wonder with which he moves around the stage belies a razor-sharp
mind, and this is not a show for the slow-witted; there are moments of pure genius, particularly when he heads into darker territory. If you have never seen him before then it is well worth checking out a true original. But for the fully initiated, this may all feel a little déjà vu. (Gordon Eldrett) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 29 Aug, 8pm, £14–£16 (£12.50–£14.50).
BO BURNHAM How can a guy with an organ be so good? ●●●●●
On the back of outlandishly glowing reviews from the heavyweight papers and keeping his expectant crowd waiting nearly half an hour after the start-time, it would be easy for the cynic to dismiss Bo Burnham. Maybe after all he’s just an over-hyped teen simply fortunate enough to have been born in an era when a guy can sit in his bedroom and knock out comedy tunes which can be accessed by millions. Could the guy in the front row with whom Burnham indulges in a bit of bird-flipping be part of the backlash, a subtle plant or an enthusiastic fan who went too far? Maybe only a quick trip back to see this show would answer that one; and, frankly, that would be a complete pleasure.
Walking on to ecstatic acclaim from his mainly young audience, Burnham commences by ripping up a bunch of
newspapers (perhaps even containing the rave notices that could weigh him down with their great expectations?) before hitting us with the first of many excellent jokes, top- notch one-liners and hilarious haikus. Tune after tune of deft comedic wordplays are hammered out on his keyboard about being an artist in a cruel world, the slings and arrows of religion and the sweet taste of delicious irony, all of which expertly massage the funnybone and irresistibly exercise the toes.
Not sure if anyone is calling him the Orson Welles of stand-up comedy, but why not start here? A note to the Foster’s comedy judges: cancel your meetings, parcel up the Best Newcomer gong, attach it to the main prize, post it to Bo and let’s all just go home, OK? (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 29 Aug, 9.35pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8–£9).