FESTIVAL COMEDY REVIEWS
I’M HIGH ON LIFE: WHAT ARE YOU ON? Charming but uncertain storytelling ●●●●●
‘This is not a stand-up show,’ says Bonnie Davies, and she’s right. Rather, Davies presents an hour of anecdotes about her childhood as the daughter of two youth workers who kept a more or less open house for all the waifs, strays and drug-dealing teens they came into contact with.
Davies is visibly nervous, and admits as much, and that reflects in some uncertain delivery, but hearing what she has to tell, it’s clear why: this is an utterly sincere ode to her obviously inspirational parents and the alternate hilarity and tragedy of her chaotic upbringing. She sketches out some compelling real- life characters, embellished with a slide-show and the odd video clip, but to really engage, this show needs to be driven by more dramatic force.
As it is, it’s a charming set of vignettes, but its impact is rendered slight by the feeling that we’re just skimming the surface. Davies is impossible to dislike, but the emotional effect is down to the content not the telling. (Laura Ennor) ■ C eca, 0845 260 1234, until 27 Aug, 9.45pm, £8.50–£10.50 (£6.50–£8.50).
HENNESSY & FRIENDS Displeasure turns to dynamic sketch doings ●●●●●
For two whole sketches and a bit, this looked like being one of those long Fringe hours when only your internal battle against the heat of a small room is likely to keep you amused. After the simple displeasures of Hennessy & Friends’ opening passages about a sick surprise anniversary present and vampires playing a garlic-based trick on one of their own, something snapped during the sequence where an overbearing and possibly disturbed child made her run-down mother’s life no longer bear- able.
And once the bad sketch spell had been broken, it remained banished from the room for the dura- tion of this show as the H&F trio played merry comedy hell with a series of silly voices, funny wigs, daft dancing/running/fox-impersonating and bizarrely grotesque spoofs of Glee and Desperate Housewives. There was no fear of the domestically mundane either as a quiet night in with a DVD turns into one partner’s worst nightmare. As this is a modern sketch affair, there just has to be some tension within the group, and here it’s
due to the Friends (David Seymour and Steven Shapland) trying to break free from the clutches of their cruel and manipulative boss (Miranda Hennessy) to launch their own double act. That plan is naturally foiled at every turn and when Shapland is zipped up inside a holdall having performed one bad Sean Connery line too many, you wonder whether he will ever be released.
Thankfully he is and plays his part in the final scene, a moment of wonderful redemption as the
sick-surprise-anniversary-present skit is revisited and cranked up way beyond 11. If you’re no longer even allowed to judge a book by its cover, don’t be drawing conclusions about a sketch trio on their first five minutes. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 27 Aug (not 13), 2.50pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9).
BRIDGET CHRISTIE Feminism with a side of toilet humour ●●●●●
If you think a tape of fart sound effects is the last word in quality stand-up, then you may enjoy this show. For everyone else, it’s probably best avoided. And the farts are the best jokes. Lurching between bizarre costumes and soapboxing about hypocritical Tory ‘feminists’, with plenty of flatulence as decoration, Christie frequently abandons whole routines, punchlines and payoffs. She has some really good things to say about
women’s plight under the current government, and she almost says them, but lets down her cause with messy delivery. And for a comedian who rightly complains that female comics are often not taken seriously in their own right, it’s disappointing that Christie’s best lines are the ones she reports having been said by her husband (Stewart Lee: you might have heard of him?).
In a world where female comics are treated seriously, they will still sometimes get a bad review; but it won’t be because of their gender. I really wanted to like this show, but don’t let Christie take your money and give you nothing but farts in return. (Charlotte Runcie) ■ Assembly Rooms, 0844 693 3008, until 26 Aug (not 13), 1.30pm, £10 (£9).
CHRIS KENT Breathes new life into anecdotal comedy ●●●●●
Making his Fringe debut is deadpan Irish comedian Chris Kent. His timing, stoic facial expressions and savvy use of repetition recall a young Michael Redmond, as Kent eases into his show about living in Cork and previously working as an electrician.
Handling and working the crowd like a
seasoned pro, it’s hard to believe he’s unveiled such a polished routine for his first Fringe. With some cleverly refurbished jokes about ordinarily predictable topics (farmers and their sheep, getting on the wrong train), Kent breathes new life into anecdotal comedy. There are some potholes: the set is anchored by far too many call-backs, which eventually ruin the show’s organic rhythm, and he occasionally strays dangerously towards material that just about hovers on the right side of ironic. Still, these things do demonstrate an overall
attention to detail and groundwork which has gone into the writing. Kent is potentially a restorative force for Fringe comedy and certainly has the persona to rival some of the bigger names. (Andrew Latimer) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 26 Aug (not 13), 9pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7.50–£8.50).
42 THE LIST 9–16 Aug 2012