LIST.CO.UK/FESTIVAL REVIEWS FESTIVAL COMEDY
OYSTER EYES Confidently juvenile with some testing sketches ●●●●● MARK NELSON Moments of profound hilarity ●●●●●
Oddball sketch quartet Oyster Eyes launch onto the stage with a ridiculous self-penned showtune, full of energy and interspersed with surreal stings, setting out their stall for this mixed but ultimately successful show. From the introduction we discover that two of the performers are pregnant (they’re not) and one is dying (he isn’t). If you’re after a plot then that’s as far as it goes. From there the sketches veer wildly from German feminist comedians to an evangelical preacher pick- ing on the audience, with nary a link between them. After a solid start some of the sketches noticeably lengthen. A sitcom starring a character who spouts ridiculous similes starts strongly, but without any progression it tests a sagging audience. Other skits are so brief they barely warrant inclusion.
As costume changes are conducted, each per- former takes the stage for a solo routine and the results here vary considerably. Put them together, though, and their easy chemistry is infectious. The overall mood is confidently juvenile and they’re well versed at manipulating a game crowd. (Murray Robertson) ■ Underbelly, Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 26 Aug, 10.25pm, £9–£10 (£8–£9).
Mark Nelson may be going soft. When he first launched onto the scene, winning the inaugural Scottish Comedian of the Year competition in 2006, his more barbed quips could have made Frankie Boyle wince. Now just into his 30s and settled down, Nelson is less preoccupied with exploring taboos and more concerned with renovating his home. That’s not to say he’s lost his bite entirely. Just as
he seems to be coasting about the Edinburgh Zoo pandas, minimum pricing or Weight Watchers, out of nowhere will come something so profoundly hilari- ous that it hits the room like a bomb. And he’s not lost his edge when it comes to engaging the front row, able to craft precise returns no matter what the audience throws at him.
He admits he has no theme, and there are times when the self-confessed mundanity of his settled life causes the mood to dip. But it all builds up to a sublime gag about conception that leaves his audi- ence in raptures. (Murray Robertson) ■ Underbelly, Cowgate, 0844 545 8252, until 26 Aug, 6.40pm, £10–£11 (£9–£10).
TREVOR NOAH Identity crisis makes for hilarious comedy ●●●●●
K C A L B E L S E L
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It takes a particular kind of individual to get up on stage and open their soul to a room of strangers in order to achieve ratification for their existence. Part of that drive might come from the oft-cited routes about having learned to use humour to defeat the school bullies or to pursue a form of love and acceptance that was denied by one or both parents. But if some of our stand-ups ‘play’ at being the outsider, Trevor Noah is the real deal. Growing up in apartheid South Africa, he had a black African mother and a white European father,
leaving him to be deemed as an individual in limbo; as a mixed-race child, he was viewed as being neither black nor white in a country where such categorisation could be a matter of life and death. The details of this upbringing left a mark on Noah as a man and shaped his worldview as a comic: how could it not when he was made to walk on the other side of the road from his parents and accompanied by a woman who looked more like him so as not to raise any questions from the authorities. The story of The Racist is how he sought to define himself, in particular by looking towards
America (where he made a triumphant appearance on The Tonight Show in January) only to find that the land of the free offered a whole new set of identity issues. All of which sounds like pretty arch fare for an hour of stand-up, but Noah is an assured presence and a class act with a raft of original insights (once he got past the chat about Scotland, that is). It’s a show that zips by and, cunningly, he leaves his crowd gagging for more with a storming finale of stomach-worrying hilarity. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 27 Aug, 7.15pm, £9–10 (£8–£9).
THE FUNERAL OF CONOR O’TOOLE Compassionate comedy skirting with tedium ●●●●●
Fey, morbid and awkward Conor O’Toole is an unlikely comedian. A noted Goth, O’Toole wants to plan his own funeral and he is after an audience. He leads a curious bunch of punters from Bristo Square to Greyfriars Kirkyard, gets them to settle near some headstones and then drivels on about his deathly plans for the big day. All of which sounds about as much fun as a silent wake, yet there’s definitely something different here.
O’Toole’s delivery and timing are way off centre, his ramblings frustratingly discordant and his songs (played on a stick with a spring on it) are cast in the shadows of the Moldy Peaches and Herman Dune’s quirkier moments.
None of it should work and the show is frankly boring for a significant part of its duration. But by the time O’Toole hands out his rather special lit- tle book of stories and cartoons before playing an encore, it’s difficult not to be moved. Conceptual and compassionate. (Paul Dale) ■ Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 26 Aug, 7.30pm, £8–£9 (£7–£8).
16–23 Aug 2012 THE LIST 37