FESTIVAL COMEDY REVIEWS
THE GINGE, THE GEORDIE AND THE GEEK Drab set of sketches ●●●●●
With early endorsements from Johnny Vegas and Catherine Tate, the three Gs have developed a hefty following. With the sell-out signs already being slapped up for their twice-daily appearances, they clearly have it made. From where this viewer is sit- ting, it’s difficult to see what any of the fuss is about. A grand-scale Idiots of Ants-like pomp and cere-
mony heralds their arrival, but pretty soon they have wound down the frenzy with drab opening sketches and despite a few honourable attempts at saving the day, it’s to little avail. They certainly throw them- selves into their material with vigour, but that infec- tious energy is let down by the writing. There are some nice ideas but it appears they may have spent more time gathering up their costumes and props than working on sketches. (Brian Donaldson) ■ The Caves, 556 5375, until 26 Aug (not 14), 4.45pm, 7.45pm, £9.50–£12 (£8.50–£11).
ALFIE BROWN Saving his soul and salvaging comedy in one fell swoop ●●●●●
In one thought-provoking hour, 25-year-old Alfie Brown singlehandedly reminded the Fringe that there’s more to the comedy world than profits piling up on the backs of homogenised Roadshow- rabid joke-automatons. It’s rather kneejerk and easy these days to slag off poor old McIntyre but that’s no reason to stop. And why should Brown cease when he has a series of steadfast opinions on the watering-down of an artform that is now viewed solely as an industry.
It’s highly unlikely that Brown would have written a Fringe show about a rail journey that went
wrong but his passions were properly enflamed last August when a comedy promoter, who had no grasp of the history of his chosen field, gave the comic some pretty sage advice: be funny, don’t be clever. Those empty words are a large motivating factor behind Soul for Sale, but it’s not the only thing
that has truly riled Brown of late. The success of Adele definitely irks him, especially when this ‘foghorn’ began spouting off about her tax burden. Beyond that, he’s peeved about the ludicrous double standards of music censors who let some appalling messages through under the pop banner (we’re talking Rihanna, we’re talking Beyoncé). But particularly bugging Brown is the Oliver Stone movie about 9/11.
Now, all this sounds like canon comedy fodder but Brown makes all of it stack up neatly and smash
it all down as symbols of the drivel that we are forced to endure on a daily basis. It’s appropriate that Brown stumbles into an impromptu Tom Waits impersonation. Like the maverick troubadour, Brown’s ultimate aim is never to compromise his ideals; he is not in it for the riches and the red carpets, he is here to change the face of his chosen field, one whose history he is very aware of. Young, hairy and angry, Alfie Brown is quite simply the future of British stand-up. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Underbelly, Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 26 Aug, 6.25pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8.50–£9.50).
MARK WATSON For your information, another top show ●●●●●
Ever since making his breakthrough on the Fringe in the mid-Noughties, Mark Watson’s ethos has remained constant: deliver solid, frequently hilari- ous stand-up amid an audience environment in which things can kick off at any moment. The more offbeat a crowd, the better it seems to be for the not-Welshman’s comedy and here, having emerged from a surprising place, he stumbles astutely through The Information (there’s just too much of it nowadays) with assistance from an early walk-out (Watson has to dig deep within himself not to follow the departee down the street) and a front-row gath- ering of beer reps. Watson’s willingness to throw himself into con-
necting with an audience belies his innate shyness and he utilises technology (inviting us to text him before and during the show) despite having an ‘ambiguous relationship with the internet’. And despite his cosy public image, he doesn’t half leather into the venue (‘a dowdy lecture hall’), festival sponsors and the banker who rejected his mortgage application after doing a quick Google search on him. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Assembly George Square, 623 3030, until 27 Aug (not 13, 20), 7.40pm, £15.
SIMON EVANS Acidic wit proves a slow-burner ●●●●●
Before the likes of Jimmy Carr and Frankie Boyle took up the gauntlet, Simon Evans was on the stand-up circuit, gleefully shocking crowds with his outrageously disdainful suggestions. Appearing on stage rather toffed-up and keeping a largely straight face, he’d play the aloof posho with plenty of arch remarks for the underclasses. Here at this year’s Fringe, there’s something more amiable in Evans’ demeanour but thankfully the acidic wit is still evi- dent and in abundance. Line after line he employs a beautiful turn of
phrase with which to disparage the likes of obese Americans in Florida, football supporters at a Chelsea match he was persuaded to attend and, of course, his own children. At first, the crowd seem a little unsure what to make of him, clearly none the wiser despite his frequent appearances on TV and radio. But as Evans steadfastly continues with his bone-close lines, eventually everyone clambers aboard and finally give him the recognition he deserves. (Marissa Burgess) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 13), 9.30pm, £11–£12 (£9.50–£10.50).
50 THE LIST 9–16 Aug 2012