FESTIVAL COMEDY REVIEWS
CHRIS RAMSEY Warm tales from a hugely charismatic performer ●●●●●
Quite why Chris Ramsey is so surprised by his popularity, it’s hard to tell. A nominee for last year’s Edinburgh Comedy Award, he cannot believe his luck, and this concept of good fortune forms the basis of his 2012 show. Having listened to (rather than read, he admits) Bill Bryson’s A Short History of Nearly Everything, he’s amazed by what he’s learned, and lucidly explores the astronomical serendipity behind our very existence. Rattling off lines at breakneck pace, Ramsey
confidently powers through his set, painting the fragility of life with wonderful material about his family, particularly the relationship with his father. Ramsey’s performance is so committed that it’s a real shame when a punter’s bulging bladder interrupts his flow, visibly irritating the comic as the momentum he has so carefully built is lost. But he’s not put off for long. Bringing things to a head, he conjures up a magnificent finale, warmly uplifting and full of humanity. (Murray Robertson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug, 7.40pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7–£8).
KUMAIL NANJIANI Fear loves this place ●●●●●
Kumail Nanjiani is a big fan of horror films. But as a natural beta male, he can’t cope with the feelings of terror they inspire in him, and much of his life is spent in a state of fear. When he talks of being unable to visit the toilet during the night after seeing Paranormal Activity, we recognise and sympathise with the situation. Two other scary stories are on a different level altogether. When he recalls hearing inexplicable sounds coming from the attic, he is voted by his flatmates to investigate. He spoons layer after layer of increasing hilarity onto the routine’s imagery as he speculates on the consequences of a violent encounter. The fact that the story ends without a punchline makes it only more real and not an excuse for a comedian to massage the truth purely for laughs. Meanwhile, the tale of the birthday party in Karachi in which a snake and mongoose fight to the
death is simply too horrific to be made up and he paces it so perfectly that the laughs come just as easily as the shocks. Although this gifted Pakistani-American comic delivers the odd minor routine such as the story of trying to get rid of a dubious tape stuck in his VCR, this is as accomplished a stand-up debut as the Fringe will have seen in a very long time. Kumail Nanjiani is a scaredy cat who is set to become comedy’s top dog. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Assembly Roxy, 623 3030, until 27 Aug, 8pm, £11.50–£12.50 (£10–£11).
ALEXIS DUBUS Too much of a good thing ●●●●●
This exuberant English comedian is too clever for his own good. Alexis Dubus’ new show draws upon some seriously crazy travel adventures he’s under- taken, including a trip to – and at – the psychedelic Burning Man Festival in the American desert. What becomes increasingly obvious as the show progresses, however, is there’s simply too much material in it. Either one of the two main travel monologues, which are chock full of digressions, could quite easily fill a full hour. And both the preamble to the show proper, in which Dubus recounts a couple of anecdotes from his 2011 Fringe show, and a bit of biography about himself which revolves around various injuries he’s suffered are, under the circumstances, extraneous.
Unable or unwilling to edit, Dubus is instead forced to speed through it, frequently stumbling or skipping over bits. Much of the material is very good and it’s clear that Dubus can deliver it well, but cramming so much into a breathlessly-paced performance does this talented stand-up no favours. (Miles Fielder) ■ Assembly Roxy, 623 3030, until 26 Aug, 6.45pm, £9.50–£10.50 (£8.50–£9.50).
THE NEW CONWAY DIMENSION Buying into the barmy ●●●●●
If you find yourself tiring of the slick, professional comedians in town, you should cop a load of Australia’s John Conway. With laptop-wielding side- kick Michael Burke trying to keep proceedings on track, Conway derails any attempts at total cohesion with semi-anarchic routines. Small and daft is the order of the day as he kicks things off with the ‘magic stick’ detecting something unhealthy in two members of the audience who he rearranges to sit together. While that near-midnight slot will surely attract a juiced-up crowd from time to time, the tight gathering on the second date of a fortnight run seemed intent on buying into the barmy.
Having appeared with the promise of four jokes (he maybe manages two, at a push) and a promise to ‘be more clear this year’, all good intentions disappear. All of which is to John Conway’s credit and the crowd’s benefit. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 27 Aug, 11.55pm, £8.50–£9.50 (£7.50–£8.50).
112 THE LIST 23 Aug–20 Sep 2012