Comedy

Jonny Awsum: Honey, I Promised the Kid

18/08/17

Just the Tonic at the Caves, Edinburgh

When Jonny Awsum rashly promised his infant daughter that one day he’d play live at the 20,000 seater O2 Arena, little did he suspect that he was embarking on an epic quest to try and make it happen – one that would lead him in some unexpected directions.

This amiable one-man show, staged in what must be the Caves’ most salubrious room, is funny and heartwarming stuff, particularly as it’s all based on a true story and even features recorded interjections from the daughter herself (now aged six). Awsum is an engaging performer, who soon has the entire audience singing along and clapping their hands. His witty songs and amusing PowerPoint illustrations help to stitch the whole thing together,

After watching a lot of standup it’s really heartening to see a comedy performance this well-constructed and thoroughly thought-through. You’ll laugh in all the right places and marvel at the man’s evident brio. As to whether Awsum manages to deliver on that promise… well, I’m afraid you’ll have to watch the show to find out.

Suffice to say you’ll doubtless leave as I did – with a great big smile on my face.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Amy Howerska: Goddess… *Unless Tired or Hungry

 

16/08/17

The Counting House, Edinburgh

Amy Howerska has become a regular fixture for us at the Fringe and, this time, we are determined to slot her in to our schedule earlier than before. She’s in her usual confident form as she strides out onto the tiny stage at The Counting House and begins to chat up members of the audience – she can do more with a facial expression than most other comics can manage with their entire bodies, milking us for laughs with evident ease. Then she announces she’d better get on with the actual show…

Goddess takes a scattergun approach to a variety of topics and it quickly becomes apparent that this is less thematically assured than last year’s show, Smashcat. She covers some of the terrible jobs she’s had to endure before becoming a full- time comic; discusses her new boyfriend (who is Irish) and his weird family; outlines her hatred of ‘mansplaining’ and her thoughts on the possibilities of motherhood… she segues back and forth through the topics and, if they seem unconnected, it’s because they actually are.  Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of laughs to be had along the way, but there’s also the suspicion that she’s coasting a little here and maybe needs to put together a more focused hour, one that has a more cohesive theme. I have no doubt whatsoever that’s she’s entirely capable of doing that.

She ends with the usual plea to put some cash in a bucket (this is on the ‘free’ Fringe but, as she points out, it’s still costing her around two grand to be here, so please give generously), and then an assistant brings out an adorable puppy for her to hold (emotional blackmail?) and the show is over. Howerska is a gifted comic and, even if this isn’t her best show, it’s nonetheless a glorious way to spend an hour at the Fringe. Go and see it.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Louise Reay: Hard Mode

16/08/17

The Stand 4, Edinburgh

When we enter the venue, three young people in boiler suits are leaping energetically about to music, which is definitely not what I am expecting. Hard Mode, I’ve been told, is all about censorship and surveillance. It imagines a future where the BBC has been purchased by the Chinese and everybody is told exactly what to do and think. Pretty soon, the three dancers disappear but soon return wearing Trestle masks and start to act in a threatening manner. Reay, who is dressed in a leotard, wig and a gold biker jacket (apparently in an attempt to look like Michael Jackson) starts talking, referencing some work she’s done with the artist Ai Weiwei. We are shown a jokey video clip where he is played by a man in a cardboard moustache. Every so often, Reay returns to the other theme of her show, which is her recent breakup with her husband, which seems completely at odds with the other material and too raw for comfort. (She even shows us some video footage from the wedding.)

There’s no denying the enthusiasm and energy that Reay puts into this show, but it’s also painfully apparent that she isn’t really in command up on that stage and Hard Mode feels more like a work-in-progress than something that is ready to show at the Fringe. To be fair to her, others in the small crowd seem to get this a lot more than I do, laughing at her comments, but it really isn’t working for me. The subject of life under an authoritarian regime is undeniably an important one, but it surely deserves something more coherent than this. At one point, the presenters try to impress the horror of living in such a society upon me by making me go and stand in the corner for five minutes.

Which probably says it all. This is neither a biting commentary nor a successful stand-up show. Instead, it exists in an uncertain hinterland somewhere between the two.

2.3 stars

Philip Caveney

Sofie Hagen: Dead Baby Frog

15/08/17

Bedlam Theatre, Bristo Place, Edinburgh

I’m looking forward to this. I first encountered Sofie Hagen via Richard Herring’s podcast, RHLSTP (RHLSTP!), and then through The Guilty Feminist. We saw Shimmer Shatter at the Liquid Rooms last year, and really enjoyed it. So I’m keen to see what she’s offering this time.

Dead Baby Frog is about (trigger warning) emotional abuse. Specifically, it’s about Sofie’s step-grandfather, with whom she lived as a child, and his cruel, controlling ways. He sounds awful – a narcissistic, bullying man, with a fragile ego and a short fuse – and his behaviour has clearly had a huge impact on Hagen’s life.

It’s horribly fascinating, and yet somehow Dead Baby Frog feels like something of a missed opportunity: there’s definitely a good show in there, but it’s not yet fully realised. It’s not bad exactly – this is Sofie Hagen, after all, and there’s no denying she’s a funny woman who knows how to get a crowd onside – but it never really grows beyond its anecdotal origins. She says, “It’s not about me; it’s about people like me,” but doesn’t extrapolate anything from her own story. Nor does she really mine the situation for maximum comedy (which, admittedly, would be hard to do); it’s as though she needs to dig a little deeper to make this into a finished show.

She’s at her most confident and amusing when she’s on familiar ground: the Westlife bit is easily the most engaging. And there are moments when she hints at the profundity that might be there to be unearthed: the crossed fingers, the baby frogs, the art.

I’d be interested to see where this show ends up, assuming she tours it. And I’ll still be watching to see what she does next.

3 stars

Susan Singfield

 

John Robins: The Darkness of Robins

john robins

13/08/17

Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh

John Robins’ opinion of ‘small weird websites’ reviewing comedy is well-documented, but here at Bouquets & Brickbats we don’t take such things personally. We were most impressed with his Live from the BBC gig,  and, as loyal retro-one-er PCDs, we’re more than keen to see his Edinburgh show. It doesn’t disappoint.

It’s not an easy hour. The Darkness of Robins is a raw and painful piece, detailing the fallout from the recent break-up of his relationship with fellow comic, Sara Pascoe. It’s heart-rending. To his credit, Robins never comes across as bitter; this is clearly not about revenge. Instead, it’s a searingly honest account of loneliness and desperation, a howl into the void. And yet, somehow, it’s funny too.

Robins has real presence and charisma; he owns the room. Even as he tells us that he doesn’t like people (doesn’t like crowds, doesn’t want more friends), he’s making us warm to him, drawing us in. And the subject matter is one we can all relate to (or most of us, at any rate): heartbreak is a familiar theme. But it’s rare to hear anyone articulate with such naked precision just how fucking awful and debilitating it can be.

I love this show. It makes me sad, but I love it anyway.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Maddy Anholt: Herselves

13/08/17

Underbelly Med Quad, Edinburgh

Amidst the plethora of standups at the Fringe, character comedy is rather thinner on the ground, but it’s there if you take the trouble to look for it. Maddy Anholt can be found every afternoon at the Underbelly Med Quad, flying the flag for her preferred area of comedy and doing a great job of it. She bounds confidently onto the stage in character as Shazza, a reality TV wannabe, who is totally convinced of her own innate qualities of super-stardom. She presses fan photographs (which she’s had laminated to make them easier to wipe-off!) into the hands of people in the front row and tells us all about her quest to be famous. Shazza is, of course, only the first in a succession of oddball characters Anholt has created for this show; wisely, she doesn’t spend too long in each role, but skips merrily along to the next and the next and the next – with barely a pause for breath.

She’s very good at working the audience. At one point I find myself called up (maybe ordered up, would be more accurate) to perform the role of her husband; I’m made to brush her hair and, let’s face it, that’s not something I get to say in many reviews! Anholt is good at snapping in and out of the various roles she takes on. The standouts are the weirdly aggressive monobrowed zoo keeper, who ends up performing the mating dance of a peacock, and the weird moment when another character channels her ‘inner child,’ morphing into a pouting, giggling little girl – this performance is eerily convincing.

It’s endearingly silly stuff, frivolous and nonsensical, a delightful way to spend an hour at the Fringe.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Andrew Doyle: Thought Crimes

 

11/08/17

The Stand, Edinburgh

Andrew Doyle, co-writer of the wonderfully acerbic Jonathan Pie, promises to be controversial. His opinions are, he says, unpopular. He is, in his own words, ‘political and a massive gay.’ But honestly, tonight, it all feels a bit tame.

There’s a lot of audience work at the top of the show, which he handles nicely – he has a clear command of the room. It’s filler though; I want to get down to some substance. The stuff about being gay is not very challenging – a few easy gags about how he’s against gay marriage because, y’know, marriage is a trap. He’s better when he gets to the politics, especially Brexit. I don’t agree with him, but he’s informed and articulate and makes his case well. And he’s absolutely right that there needs to be space for debate; no one wins when we shut each other down.

A shame then that he seeks to shut others down, with a straw man argument against identity politics, citing ‘Otherkins’ as an example of their absurdity. But it’s his argument that’s absurd: no one in this clearly politically-engaged room knows what an Otherkin is; he has to tell us (someone who doesn’t identify as human, apparently), so they’re hardly mainstream; it’s kind of cheap to use them as a means of discrediting other identities in the LGBTQ+ ‘community’, especially at a time when transgender people in particular are facing so much prejudice.

He’s drinking wine on-stage – about two thirds of a bottle of red during the hour – and things do get more interesting as he gets looser. It makes him seem vulnerable; by the end, when he’s talking about losing friends because of what he thinks, he appears to be really hurt. Or maybe that’s all part of the schtick.

Doyle is a fascinating person, and I’ll definitely watch out for him and see what else he does. He’s clever and engaging, and has the crowd laughing throughout. This show could do with a bit more focus though – and less reliance on the easy stuff.

3.4 stars

Susan Singfield

Stuart Goldsmith: Like I Mean It

10/08/17

Liquid Rooms, Edinburgh

The poet Cyril Connolly once famously wrote, ‘There is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hall.’ But for some artists – especially comedians – it turns out that pram (or rather its occupant) can be the central premise of a very amusing routine. Take Stuart Goldsmith, for instance. The standup comic and host of the popular podcast, The Comedian’s Comedian, has fairly recently become a father and his baby (and some of the mysterious ailments suffered by her mother) provide Goldsmith with a whole raft of quips and observations.

He’s on good form at the Liquid Rooms (one of the Free Fringe venues), but you’ll need to get there early if you want a seat, because he’s popular and the place gets rammed. Also, don’t forget to take some cash along with you, because it’s considered very bad form indeed to attend without throwing some cash (preferably of the paper variety) into the bucket as you leave. Comedians need to eat – and feed their families – you know.

Goldsmith does a great line in self deprecation and this year, as he’s decided to record his routine at each session, he milks a lot of extra laughs from his wry asides to the recording device, commenting on which jokes went well and which ones clearly sailed over the heads of the audience.

Goldsmith has a very likable persona and a relaxed way with an audience that always makes his sets enjoyable. He was very good last year – and this show is even better.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Phil Wang: Kinabalu

 

 

09/08/17

Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh

I’ve previously only been aware of Phil Wang from his (perfectly pleasant) appearances on TV panel shows. Seeing him do standup has made me completely reassess him. From the moment this young comedian walks onto the stage of the Pleasance Beneath and launches into a convoluted introduction, he has me laughing. By the time we’re halfway through the set this has developed into something approaching hysteria, until there are actual tears streaming down my face. It’s something to do with his doomed attempts to ‘be cool,’ the occasional owlish glances over the top of his spectacles, his clever wordplay and playful invention. All these elements combine to create comedy gold. The section where he describes going to the supermarket to buy ‘lube’ is so funny I actually have difficulty breathing.

Mind you, it’s not all mindless laughter. Wang, the son of a Malaysian father and an English mother, has some interesting observations to make on the nature of nationality and about being a true ‘son of the Empire.’ As somebody who spent much of his childhood in Malaya (as it was then known), I found this aspect of his show particularly interesting, but Wang has the good sense to disguise his message as more humour. Laugh and learn, baby, laugh and learn.

Every year at the Fringe I make some personal discoveries. This year, the first of them is that Phil Wang is one of the funniest comics I’ve seen. Either that, or I’ve gone down with some kind of weird hyena virus.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Matt Forde: A Show Hastily Rewritten in Light of Recent Events – Again!

09/08/17

Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh

My, but this is a boozy crowd! No judgement intended (I can be a bit of a boozer myself) but it’s noticeable: almost everyone entering the room is holding on to at least one pint; many punters are gamely carrying two. Well, it wouldn’t do to run out, would it? I’ve never been so aware of the drinking at a festival gig. And there are a fair number of actual drunks here too: people who, though friendly and good-humoured, have clearly already reached the stage where they might just derail a show. I’ve also never seen Matt Forde before. I wonder if his audience tells me something about him.

Not really, it turns out. Maybe it’s just coincidence. There’s a kind of blokey jocularity to Forde’s delivery which complements the room’s beeriness, and there are indeed interruptions from a group of older men (one wants to go to the toilet; a second worries that the first’s been gone too long; a third just wants to have a chat) but Forde handles it well: he’s friendly and polite, but doesn’t let things stray too far.

Because he has a lot he wants to say – and we all want to hear it. His schtick is political impressions interspersed with commentary, and it’s really very good indeed. The impersonations are witty and well-judged, and the observations show he’s knowledgeable: interested and interesting, letting no one off the hook. Okay, so the Nicola Sturgeon section falls a bit flat (I don’t think there are actually many Scottish people in tonight, so there maybe isn’t enough shared understanding for this to really fly), but most of what he says hits the mark successfully. It’s not massively challenging, but it is thought-provoking: it’s Rory Bremner territory. His Donald Trump is a definite stand-out: as sharp and satirical and funny as can be.

A fascinating show, this one – quite different from most of what’s on offer at the Fringe. It’s well worth an hour of anybody’s time.

4.2 stars

Susan Singfield