LIST.CO.UK/FESTIVAL REVIEWS FESTIVAL COMEDY
CELIA PACQUOLA A quirksome loveable geekfest ●●●●● SUSAN CALMAN Self-deprecation and a rock-star start ●●●●●
In this, her third solo show at the Fringe, Aussie Celia Pacquola examines whether she has achieved anything in her move to the UK. It’s particularly per- tinent as she left behind a long-term boyfriend, and whether they will stay together maintains some level of mild suspense in Delayed’s narrative. But that’s far from all that’s here. As has been noted in previ- ous shows, there’s a wonderful sparky quality to Pacquola that puts her a notch above. Opening with some ‘ugly’ dance moves, she pep-
pers the show with theatrical waves of her arms and contorted expressions. With equal measures of quirk and geek, Pacquola tells us that when she’s drunk you might find her in a chemist arguing with the ladies on the hair dye boxes or how her body is like a flatmate who’s obsessed with cultivating things in strange areas then winds up with a heart-warming finale featuring a cult celebrity. Pacquola is truly a pleasure to listen to during an hour that doesn’t drop the energy once. (Marissa Burgess) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 27 Aug, 7pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8.50–£9.50).
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STEWART LEE Fringe veteran can still hurt stomachs ●●●●●
Stewart Lee’s 2012 Fringe kicked off in typically pro- vocative vein, when his Guardian article (headlined ‘The Slow Death of the Edinburgh Fringe’) delivered an industry-savvy knee to the groin of corporate comedy promoters. While PRs dealt with the after- math from his wrath, the 25-time Fringe veteran holds court this year at the chandeliered, revamped Assembly Rooms. Insider knowledge of the comedy game is only
one card up Lee’s sleeve. There’s also his signature self-aware, deconstruction tactic, employed with grade-A mastery here. ‘I mean the opposite of what I just said,’ he condescends after a sarcastic aside. When laughs don’t arrive fast enough, he deadpans, a twinkle in his eye: ‘you’re gonna have to up your game’.
Pedantry, semantics, current affairs and affection- ate disdain feature too in a show about his sup- posed lack of a show, due to fatherhood and being ‘creatively spent’. Although the last 15 minutes genuinely sag, making it seem like the biter has bit himself in the bum, the ploy is clever and the good bits still stomach-hurtingly funny. (Claire Sawers) ■ Assembly Rooms, 0844 693 3008, until 26 Aug (not 20), 6.05pm, £15 (£12).
E N R O H T A L L U E V E T S
Susan Calman is at her most passionate and politi- cal this year. Equal marriage is on the agenda, but she kites wild and surprising tangents with a lightly manic and highly engaging touch. In the spirit of the list that forms the core of this gleeful hour (‘Reasons Why No One Should Marry Susan Calman’), here’s why she takes gold: she has the audience in frenzies of enthusiasm from the off with a rock star opening! She wrings belly laughs from the most surprising places: her obsession with pesky chin hairs and DCI Jane Tennison. She is natural and honest and idi- osyncratic and odd and genial and brilliantly defiant.
After an hourful of self-deprecating banter and stories, her call to arms on equal marriage makes for an emotionally charged ending; let’s all do some- thing to change someone’s mind, change the law, change the world. Susan Calman’s got my vote for Scotland’s First Lady of Comedy. (Peggy Hughes) ■ Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 27 Aug, 6pm, £11–£12 (£10–£11).
JIM JEFFERIES Revelatory and raucous stand-up at its most potent ●●●●●
Watching Jim Jefferies at his best is akin to the sensation of wading neck deep into ice cold water and suddenly realising you’ve lost your footing. The sheer audacity of his material and its depths is breathtaking. Given his current personal circumstances – settled down, bought a house and looking towards fatherhood — and that much of his work is autobiographical, you might have imagined that Fully Functional would be a tamer show. But no, the set pinballs from one uncomfortable subject to another. Plundering the recesses of the mind for its darkest and dirtiest thoughts, and instead of burying
them again with a shudder he drags them out for all to see: infant death, paedophilia, rapey groupie situations. And yet still we’re laughing; big rib-shaking laughs even if they are from behind your hands as they cover your face. He even manages to turn an aeroplane story into a hilarious narrative of childish pettiness and near accidental bigotry. His stand-out piece this year is the sight of Jefferies staggering and swaggering about the stage,
portraying god as a belligerent, irrational and hateful drunk at a party who points his finger at people he decides, rather randomly, that he doesn’t like — including the prawns. And in case Jefferies is teetering on the brink of god-at-a-party level of machismo himself, he undercuts it with a story that displays his own vulnerability for us all to consider.
In a lot of ways he’s like the Tracey Emin of the comedy world: there’s no apparent filter on how
much he should be revealing about himself. Here it’s the ‘coke wank’, revealing a truly pathetic figure lying alone in a sweaty bed, masturbating for four hours but too doped to orgasm after a night mix- ing whisky with coke of the Colombian kind. Stunning. Quite literally. (Marissa Burgess) ■ Assembly Hall, 623 3030, until 26 Aug, 9pm, £16–£17.50 (£15–£16).
16–23 Aug 2012 THE LIST 33