FESTIVAL COMEDY | Reviews
HUMZA ARSHAD Mixed bag from the Badman ●●●●●
Humza Arshad first came to prominence thanks to his phenomenally popular Diary of a Badman series, which has had more than 47 million views on YouTube. In it, he plays a hyper, stereotypical version of himself, deriving humour from the day- to-day life of a British Pakistani Muslim, a lot of the time failing in his attempts to get the girl. This semi self-deprecating style follows him to the stage in his first stand-up show, as does his character’s high-pitched and very loud delivery. Arshad is a charismatic guy, prefacing each new tangent
he speeds off on with a question to the audience; this could potentially grow tired, but doesn’t thanks to his tendency for off- the-cuff and sometimes leftfield remarks that strike a chord with the crowd. Indeed, it’s these sharp asides that are more likely to summon the laughs than his long-form storytelling which, while compelling and insightful, is guilty of rambling in the build-up to punchlines which occasionally fall flat.
Rather like his YouTube series, Arshad’s stand-up centres on his experiences of being Asian in Britain, focusing on the differences between himself, his family and friends, and the white people he encounters. He riffs on race in an inoffensive, well-structured manner (‘where I live, white people are an endangered species’), including a droll piece about the perils of being in love with a racist at primary school. Where he does fall down is in the polarity of his material;
while there are some segments which are smart and thoughtful, he does rely an awful lot on puerility (‘your mum has a penis’, ‘donkey dicks’). While this may all be part of in-depth character development, Arshad is a lot funnier when he’s being a bit more natural. (Kirstyn Smith) ■ Gilded Balloon Teviot, 622 6552, until 25 Aug, 10.45pm, £11–£12 (£10–£11).
JIGSAW A tight little sketchy bundle ●●●●●
RUSSELL KANE Physical fun and mind-tickling delights ●●●●● SCROOBIUS PIP Spoken word mastery ●●●●●
From their entrance – charging onto the stage pursued by an unseen threat – to their exit 50 minutes later, Dan Antopolski, Tom Craine and Nat Luurtsema barely pause to catch breath while delivering a rapid-fire series of sketches that consistently hit the target marked ‘funny bone’. The explanation for their dramatic entrance is
revealed at the end (featuring an equally spectacular departure), and this framing device is developed during the hour, giving the show a solid structure on which to hang their sketches, some of which are wholly unrelated to this hidden terror. There are also several jokes that are repeatedly referred to, in particular a school bullying incident that involves a bit of amusing, though not embarrassing, audience participation; these also serve to pull the show together into a nice, tight little bundle.
The sketches themselves range from the mundane to the really quite strange: there’s a splendidly weird one in which Nat pretends to be Dan’s four baby daughters simultaneously. Whatever the nature of the sketches, they’re well-conceived and benefit from strong writing and perfectly pitched delivery. (Miles Fielder) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug, 4.45pm, £11–£12 (£9–£10).
106 THE LIST 22 Aug–19 Sep 2013
Russell Kane wanted to see the ‘whites of their eyes’ for this Fringe run of Smallness in the titchiest venue he could find at the Pleasance. Lucky people in nightly clumps of 55 gained access to an act who is more used to playing in front of attendances many times bigger. Always an ideas man, this year’s theme of smallness is layered, wrapping itself around notions such as national identity (that classic British reserve), and our nostalgia-fuelled tendency to look back at a more modest time no matter how happy we are in the present.
The pleasure of watching Kane is in seeing how he has worked through his theories and used them to shine a light onto his own reasonably famous life (even if he is still confused by onlookers with Radio 1’s breakfast DJ). All of the show’s elements merge in his final story of being in a threatening situation while on holiday in Thailand.
A physical comedian whose mind works at an
equally active rate of knots, his piranha-sharp wit can leave you folding in its wake. But when he hits his target, there are few British comics to touch him. (Brian Donaldson) ■ Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 22 Aug, 9.30pm, £17.50 (£15).
A dark figure walks onto the stage to the boisterous cheers and applause of a packed crowd. With his black leather jacket, black slacks and long black beard, Scroobius Pip exudes an obscure aura and powerful charisma which instantly captures the attention. For the following 55 minutes, we are all enthralled by the wit and talent of this spoken word artist.
Pip does not hold out on emotional content
and pulls us into an opening piece on self-harm. For those not familiar with the London-based wordsmith, such an introduction could be the ominous sign of a bleak hour of mournful poems. However, this is where his humour and confessed fondness for stand-up balances out the set’s mood. Suicide, murder, abuse, boredom and lost love
are all themes studied and tastefully tackled but the show never sinks into the depths of depression. The man on stage has a command over the crowd, and an ability to keep us laughing and in good spirits that is laudable. At the end of this gig, his incredible deftness with
the written word and stage presence leaves us begging for more. (Robin Ford-Coron) ■ Pleasance Dome, 556 6550, until 26 Aug, 9.40pm, £10.50–£13.50 (£9–£12.50).