{COMEDY} Reviews
MARGARET CHO San Franciscan in town to have lots of sex, please ●●●●●
There’s an audible audience cringe when Margaret Cho explains – with all the detail of an autopsy report – what she thinks might have put off the man about to have sex with her. ‘I’d like to apologise to all the people who didn’t know what to expect, but came here because they liked Memoirs of a Geisha,’ shrugs Cho, the potty-mouthed San Francisco TV comedian (Sex and the City, 30 Rock, Drop Dead Diva). And no, she’s not Japanese, or Alaskan for that matter, she’s Korean, getting her biggest laughs from playing around with Asian stereotypes she gets landed with. Her flyer-avoidance strategy in Edinburgh is to giggle cutely, wear knee-high socks and carry a camera. When she first arrives on stage, there’s roughly a two-
minute wait before the first mention of Cho’s genitals, and from then on, the camel toe, pussy and bush jokes are never more than about 30 seconds away. (Insert rant about female comedians over-playing the anatomy card here.) Her sex life also gets a thorough going-over: ‘I have sex with men, and with women; and transgendered people too,’ offers Cho, trying to label her own sexuality. ‘I guess I’m just greedy.’ On the music front, a country song with the chorus ‘I’m Sorry I Shot You in the Face’ is a highlight.
Pot smoking and sext-messaging habits are also explored, allowing for an always welcome visit from one of Cho’s expert impersonations, this time of her mother, an over-protective, heavily-accented fusser whom Cho clearly adores. Cyndi Lauper and a Sloaney woman also showcase her uncanny ability for silly voices. But despite Cho’s confident performance, and a packed-out, queer-friendly audience, the gags seem over-reliant on show-off stuff about being ‘like, such a fucking stoner?’ We know to expect ‘adult’ material from Cho, just not so adolescent. (Claire Sawers) ■ Assembly George Square, 623 3030, until 29 Aug (not 17), 9pm, £15–£16 (£13–£14).
L A V I T S E F
ROISIN CONATY ‘Dickhead’ on a mission to achieve zen ●●●●● SANDERSON JONES Pleasingly foppish semi-shambles ●●●●●
This 32-year-old from Camden Market is on a mission ‘to get zenned out, and be more functioning’. With four and a half years of singledom playing on her mind, plus an appalling sense of direction (not good when trying to storm off after an argument, she grimaces), she feels she has a long way to go having only just moved out from her nan’s house. Roisin Conaty’s a pally sort, all chummy and warm with the crowd, with a lot of her set drawing on advice she’s had foisted on her by an invisible backstage cast of her mum, nan and some close female friends. Cringing at her own ‘dickhead’ tendencies, she
tells stories of drool-related shame during a massage and an inability to operate chopsticks (‘Why learn? I can’t even drive – I need to be careful what I use my brainpower for,’ she explains). But despite her likeability, a nervy delivery and an often impenetrable mash-up of ideas don’t do her material any favours. If the yoga relaxation classes she’s taking ever do finally pay off, it would be interesting to see the results of a more zen delivery of her stories. (Claire Sawers) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 28 Aug (not 15), 5.45pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8).
52 THE LIST 11–18 Aug 2011
This is one of those shows that you’re loathe to have to put a put a star rating on. There’s no telling what’s going to happen on any one night, though you can probably predict some Venn diagrams, a bit of Phil Collins and gleefully bad taste jokes. Sanderson Jones’ gimmick is that he’ll meet up with all of his audience members before the show to sell them their ticket personally. Sadly, if you’re reviewing you can probably just get the ticket through the usual PR channels but not meeting up was compensated by getting a kiss on the cheek from the bearded man at the gig. It would have been disappointing if the ticket ruse turned out to be the only unusual thing about Jones but it’s reassuring to discover that he’s a foppish eccentric. Easily distracted, he freely admits that the time spent selling the tickets for the show meant less time for preparing his hour but there’s a flying- by-the-seat-of-his-pants feeling to the whole event anyway. Some technical parts go wrong, there are inappropriate clips from the internet and background research of some audience members’ Linkedin pages. (Marissa Burgess) ■ The Caves, 556 5375, until 28 Aug (not 17), 9.20pm, £9–£10 (£7–£8).
SHEEPS Confidence and skill ooze from Footlights alumni ●●●●●
The Sheeps trio have hit the ground running as their comedy freight train ploughed through 55 minutes of sketches, skits and songs. As three former Cambridge Footlights members, their show was as slick and well-rehearsed as you’d expect. Beautifully timed gags, confident character performances and off-the-wall scenarios peppered their act. Stand-out pieces were the mutant friend created
for a lonely young boy by his well-meaning but slightly creepy father and the elderly woman responsible for providing hit tunes for ABBA by singing them songs about the ghost upstairs. In both of these sketches, Alastair Roberts manages to steal the show. His grasp of comic timing and self- assured performance of both grotesque and understated characters is brilliant. The boys all have charisma and charm in spades but yet more promising is the material. The devil is in the detail and this show is brimming with wicked specifics. Clever, sharp and fresh, you can expect to see much more from Sheeps. (Suzanne Neilson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 28 Aug (not 16), 4.45pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8).