{COMEDY} Reviews
RUSSELL KANE Caustic and hilarious self-flagellation ●●●●●
It’s hard to judge Russell Kane’s show because he’s already done it. For the ‘difficult’ follow-up to his Edinburgh Comedy Award-winning 2010 show Kane performs Manscaping as himself, offers up heckles, anticipates critic and audience responses and even includes Frankie Boyle’s imagined opinion. He controls perceptions and presents so many alternate perspectives that there is little room for one’s own. Shuffling through a Rolodex of personae is his concept,
where ‘manscaping’ refers not just to physical grooming but the slipping-on of different roles and various selves. Kane introduces us to a few of his manscapes and the reason he finds himself in search of a workable identity: heartbreak. Attempting to address the difficulties of sex and relationships for a modern man surrounded by a culture of post-feminism and with a background of patriarchal misogyny, he gives a sociological spin to his travails in love. With delivery like a verbal assault, he overwhelms with
aggressive, rapid-fire articulacy, punctuated by Tourette’s-like asides and priapic thrusts that work in counterpoint to the philosophical tendencies of his words. It’s not all on- message, though. Digressions about Cheryl Cole and the Egyptian political conflict feel like incongruous filler and divert from what Kane talks about best: himself.
The latter part of the show leaves the explaining of manscapes as he reiterates class issues, newly complicated by his semi-celebrity status which, as he tells us, harks back to previous shows. Early on, Kane cops on to a ‘horrific self- awareness’. This, combined with a manic whirlwind delivery gives him his power as a comedic force: caustic self- flagellation at breakneck speed. Such self-awareness doesn’t make for an easy state of being, as Kane’s restlessness attests, but, luckily for us, in the right hands it provides all the material one will ever need. (Suzanne Black) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug, 8.50pm, £17.50 (£15.50).
PETE BENNETT Unpolished but candid and funny ●●●●●
IAIN STIRLING / SEAN MCLOUGHLIN The star signing lets down the team ●●●●● TOM DEACON Slow-burning quasi hard-hitting hour ●●●●●
L A V I T S E F
Back in 2006, Pete Bennett spent the summer trapped in a building making people laugh. Now free of the Big Brother shackles, he presents his one- man show, an autobiographical highlights package of his life with Tourette’s Syndrome. Bennett presents his condition not as an ailment but as something he cherishes, admitting that the tics distract his train of thought.
At times it feels like an unpolished confessional, particularly in his liberal employment of daft voices and occasional use of puppets. He sometimes uses these props to venture into darker territory, such as his disquieting relationship with an uncle who wields the sinister-sounding ‘Fred the stick’. There’s less Big Brother material here than some fans may like, and he seems almost reticent to bring it up. Indeed, despite the benefits his fame has brought
(‘chavs’ now applaud rather than attack him in the street) he seems disinterested in fame and laments his Wikipedia entry forever tarring him with past dalliances with drugs. This supersonic stream-of- consciousness is sometimes hilarious and always candid. (Murray Robertson) ■ Cabaret Voltaire, 226 0000, until 29 Aug, 7.30pm, £8–£9 (£7–£8).
30 THE LIST 25 Aug–22 Sep 2011
No offence to the jaunty Iain Stirling, but it’s intriguing to wonder what a solo hour with Sean McLoughlin would have turned out like. CBBC’s Scottish presenter Stirling seems billed as the main event here given his status as compere and closing act, but his bits are sandwiched by a deliciously performed 25-minutes which, thanks to a frisky crowd, threatens to spill into outright anarchy. McLoughlin rides the mania that, contrary to his protestations, he has willingly cultivated in order to platform his more unhinged material. You could name (at least) two dozen more unsightly comics on the Fringe this year, but McLoughlin is determined to play on his apparent physical imperfections, a situation greased by an unfortunate physical maladjustment. Once he stops the distracting habit of explaining his jokes, he has some cracking lines about his own mobile phone, being on the dole and applying the Mr Kipling standard to world affairs. By contrast, Stirling’s inoffensive musings on Facebook, Hollyoaks and that stand-up travel staple of yore, the megabus, seem merely serviceable. (Brian Donaldson) ■ The Store, 556 5375, until 28 Aug, 7.40pm, £8 (£6).
Recognised more these days for his Sunday night slot at Radio 1 than his stand-up comedy, Tom Deacon puts a face to a familiar voice in his performance with his show Can I Be Honest? Starting slowly, Deacon improves as the hour progresses with him visibly relaxing before his audience. The show is effectively a 60 minute-long tirade against a number of issues that Deacon believes to be close-to-the-bone as well as nudging near his heart and although there are moments of darker-edged humour, there is a slightly distracting contradiction between the material and his delivery. The hour’s progressive improvement is largely
down to Deacon becoming bolder, apparently less concerned about offending in a show that is designed to upset. With content ranging from caviar to awkward-to-eat fruit, Deacon lets rip with a number of funny anecdotes regarding past relationships and current flatmates. There is certainly no lack of diversity in subject matter in a fun performance but one that partially fails to deliver on the promise of hard-hitting, dark comedy. (Jamie Cameron) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 29 Aug (not 28), 8.20pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8).