{COMEDY} Reviews
CHAT SHOWS The best and worst of the talk shows
The role of chat show host is a tricky one to master, having to take centre stage if conversation is dragging, but yielding the spotlight when guests are ready to shine. This concept has entirely bypassed Neil and Christine Hamilton (●●●●●) as they rely solely on their own mismatched bizarreness to keep the audience morbidly interested. Hardeep Singh Kohli (●●●●●) and Scott Agnew (●●●●●) are amicable enough, but fail to supply the charisma absent in their typical class of guest (Dr Phil Hammond and the usually hyper Martin Mor respectively). Tom Allen (●●●●●) occupies the host’s chair with ease: his equal parts campy and charming persona comes across like a less grating Graham Norton, and he reins it in appropriately when guest Craig Hill takes the stage with lashings of innuendo and smut. Similarly, Joe Simmons and Lorraine Chase (●●●●●) make a great team, as he dazzles the hectic barrage of guests with his massive pearly-white gnashers, and she pulls it all back to earth every now and again by saying something wonderfully batty.
The prince of the genre, though, is Marcel Lucont
(●●●●●, pictured). While his haughty Frenchman shtick could wear thin over the course of an hour-long solo set, the chat show format allows him to spar with guests and disdainfully berate late-comers to great effect. His guests (in this case the rather timid Yianni Agisilaou and the gloriously bluff and brash Tony Law) are probed about awkward sexual encounters, lubricated with alcohol and challenged to a staring contest, which Lucont invariably wins. Crucially – and this is what raises Lucont above the rest –
they are never given a soft invitation to plug their wares. Every other chat show in town acts as a series of trailers for things you could be seeing instead. Lucont and his guests make the show you’re watching the one that’s worth seeing. (Niki Boyle) ■ See edfringe.com for show details.
NAZ OSMANOGLU A vibrant hour in search of an alpha male ●●●●● THE PAJAMA MEN Brilliantly silly and wonderfully clever ●●●●●
JOSIE LONG Stand up for the left ●●●●●
L A V I T S E F
About halfway through Naz Osmanoglu’s sweat- fuelled debut show, a bizarre and frankly unhelpful heckler pipes up with a loud ‘NEXT!’ The WitTank member looks temporarily flummoxed but tackles this curious contribution full-on; after an initial reluctance to own up followed by a series of lies to weasel his way out of the tension he’s caused, the heckler is soon suitably chastened by this half- English, half-Turkish force of nature. On the hunt for the ultimate alpha male during
1000% Awesome, a chef in the front row is more like the type he has in mind, but being in line for a seat among the Turkish royal household, Osmanoglu is reasonably secure in his own worth. Despite the monarchic whiff inside this Udderbelly
sweatbox, the comic is also riddled with the same fears and irritations as the rest of us: he can’t stomach Britain’s Got Talent, has a fear of dentists and was once mugged for a hotdog. Taking a breather for some daft towel-based humour, Osmanoglu gets back on message and with help from his larger-than-life dad, ends this effervescent show with a real flourish. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Udderbelly’s Pasture, 0844 545 8252, until 29 Aug, 9.15pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8).
36 THE LIST 25 Aug–22 Sep 2011
In The Middle of No One is one of the most inventive, thoughtful and well-performed comedy shows on the Fringe, a whisker away from five-star glory, let down only by a slight lack of energy tonight. This, however, is understandable. In an exhausting show, the pair of physical comedians from Albuquerque each play over a dozen characters, ranging from the piece’s hero – sibilantly- named time traveller Ross Stevens Sparks – to a robot rip-off merchant and a groaning porn-alike South American bird called a Give-it-to-me.
The show twists more times than a M Night Shyamalan film. Indeed, a lot of laughs come from taking cinema conventions to absurd levels of stupidity, or from giving minor characters excessive amounts of screen time: the five minutes spent watching two hospital nurses imitating one of the main character’s speeches are superb.
The final scenes swap the cleverness of the earlier mimes for a not-unenjoyable barrage of plot twists, and as Sparks flies through time, you can’t help wanting to get more of their killer, drawn-out ad libs. Still, this is highly recommended. (Jonny Ensall) ■ Assembly Hall, 623 3030, until 29 Aug, 9pm, £13–£14 (£12–£13).
Josie Long is ready to rubbish a stock right-wing idea when a heckler interrupts. ‘Hear hear!’ the grumbler shouts back at the suggestion that a cleaner shouldn’t have to pay tax towards funding arts degrees. Long looks shocked. In attempting to act against what she refers to as ‘a 1980s tribute government’, Long acknowledges that she’s still searching for direction. Her cosy audience already share many of her views, and that makes this show feel a bit like shooting fish in a barrel, with little chance of any change of perspective when the one dissenting voice is sidelined as creepy. There are some genius moments, particularly a
sketch about the Brontës brother, Branwell, but the comedy tapers out as the strength of Long’s activist feelings come to the fore. The point seems to be that she shouldn’t be hogging the stage with jokes when protestors are being caught up in police kettles. Long presents most of her ideas in ways that you’d be hard-pressed to disagree with, but leaving the theatre there’s the sense that something either more constructive, or much funnier, could have taken place. (Jonny Ensall) ■ Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 28 Aug, 7pm, £10-£12.