Comedy

Stand Up for Shelter

09/08/17

Underbelly, George Square

The Udderbelly is packed with eager comedy fans who’ve all turned out to support a very worthy cause. MC Suzi Ruffell tells us we’ve already raised over four grand for Shelter just by buying tickets, so we can feel good about ourselves as we laugh. In addition, showcase events like these are a great way of sampling a varied selection of comedians. Because of their brief time allocation, we’re usually left wanting more – but luckily, that’s easily fixed as most of them have their own shows at the Fringe. Ruffell is a lively MC, who communicates well with the audience and handles the inevitable late arrivals with aplomb – then, without further ado she introduces the first act.

We’ve actually seen Richard Herring’s excellent Edinburgh show, Oh Frig, I’m 50!, twice already (we took my parents to his first preview, then went again for reviewing purposes a few nights later), so we’re expecting to find this short set a little over-familiar. Luckily for us, he delivers different material here, and he’s as hilarious, irreverent and charming as ever. A great way to start the show.

We’ve heard Desiree Burch on the fabulous Guilty Feminist podcast, and it’s lovely to finally see her live. As the title of her Fringe show, Unfuckable, suggests, she’s not an act for the prudish: she’s rude and funny, with charisma-aplenty. Good stuff.

Sara Pascoe is of course, another Fringe stalwart. Here she talks mostly about Marks and Spencer knickers and the time when she had the misfortune to be wearing the same ones as her ex’s mother. Her quirky, intelligent take on the world is as evident here as always, and she’s as marvellous as you’d expect.

We’re delighted to see our friend Daliso Chaponda  doing so well since his BGT appearance earlier this year – he’s finally getting the attention he deserves. He absolutely smashes this gig, drawing actual applause from the crowd for gag after gag. He’s pretty hard-hitting, and doesn’t shy away from controversial subject matter (here he focuses on recent news stories about public figures using ‘the N word’ and how context changes everything) but he’s so charming and affable that it’s hard to imagine he could ever offend. It’s a shame he’s been given such a short slot, as the audience is clearly up for a lot more. He’s embarking on a tour early next year, and it’s definitely going to be worth checking him out.

Dan Antopolski treats us to some excerpts from a 50 Shades of Grey type novel that he’s working on. As you might expect, this is salacious stuff, made ridiculous by its over-attention to detail. It’s slyly funny and makes us giggle.

James Acaster ambles out, and makes amiable chit-chat for a few minutes. The conceit here is that he hasn’t bothered preparing, and he keeps looking at his watch, giving us a running countdown until his time is up. It’s a nice idea, and works well for him, perfectly suiting his comedic persona. Even the silences and sighs are funny; he has us all on side.

It’s left to Ed Byrne to close out the show in his own inimitable style. He tells us he only found out about this gig ten minutes before he was due on stage and has run all the way here, but since he has a little longer to stretch out than the earlier acts, he connects really successfully with the audience and his stories about the trials of  fatherhood and his planned vasectomy have us all laughing our socks off. It’s a satisfying end to proceedings, though inevitably it’s overrun and we have to leg it to our next gig.

It is a real treat to see so many great comedians on one bill – and Shelter really is an important cause. Recent news stories about increasing levels of homelessness in Britain (it’s set to double by 2041 according to some reports) show that this is actually no laughing matter. You can donate here: https://england.shelter.org.uk/donate

4.5 stars

Susan Singfield & Philip Caveney

Richard Herring: Oh Frig, I’m 50!

 

08/08/17

Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh

You don’t have to spend long looking through Bouquets & Brickbats reviews to realise that we are Richard Herring fans. We’re delighted that he’s returned to the Fringe this year; we felt his absence in 2015 and 2016. And we’re even more delighted to see the huge queue forming around the Pleasance Courtyard and to hear that his show has sold out tonight: if he does well, surely he’s more likely to come back again next time?

Oh Frig, I’m 50! is a call-back to his 2007 show, Oh Fuck, I’m 40! Unsurprisingly, it focuses on the differences ten years have wrought: the physical ignominy of aging, and the changes to his personal life that have occurred in the last decade. From footloose to family-man, from hot-head to… slightly less hot-head, this is an honest and sometimes brutal account of what it means to grow older.

As always, Herring is at his best when engaged in pedantic deconstruction: here, he homes in on an email and a children’s game, neither of which sound like ripe topics for comedy, but both are mined for maximum laughs, and the audience is clearly appreciative of this obsession with the minutiae. Maybe there isn’t as strong a theme as there was in Christ on a Bike or Hitler Moustache, but it’s a fine show nevertheless, performed with absolute authority by an assured and confident comedian who knows that what he’s got is good.

Definitely, as always, this is worth trying to see. Although I do hope it’s sold out, and that you have to wait for it to go on tour.

4.8 stars

Susan Singfield

Snap

08/08/17

Assembly Theatre, George Square

Let’s face it, it wouldn’t really be the Fringe without a bit of magic, would it? And it certainly wouldn’t be the Fringe without clowns. Korea-based company, Snap, have had the brilliant idea of splicing the two traditions together to create something unique: a delicious blend of traditional magic, slapstick and state-of-the-art lighting effects that really is enchanting in the truest sense of the word.

Three clowns lead us through a mysterious doorway that takes us to four totally different acts –  and they are each, in their own way, truly accomplished. There’s The Florist who does the most amazing sleight-of-hand card tricks; The Achemist, who does things with sand that you really won’t believe; The Oddball, a juggler (and if that sounds underwhelming, don’t be fooled) and finally, The Dreamer, who… well, words fail me. You’ll really need to see that one for yourself. Suffice to say that, unless you’re the grumpiest person on the planet, you’ll be as thrilled as we are.

It’s all performed to music so there are no language barriers to get through, the material is anodyne enough to make it suitable for family audiences, and it’s precision-planned down to the last detail. If you only see one magic act at this year’s Fringe, this may be the one to go for, especially if you have youngsters in tow.

Oh, by the way, that sound you keep hearing? It’s people gasping in disbelief. Enjoy.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Joanne Ryan: Eggsistentialism

07/08/17

Summerhall, Edinburgh

Eggsistentialism is an absolute gem of a show. Written and performed by Irish actor Joanne Ryan, it tells the very private story of a woman trying to decide whether or not she’d like to have a child. But it’s a lot more than that: it’s also a history of Ireland and its social, sexual history. Deftly constructed, so that it feels light and palatable even when it’s punching hard, this is a clever piece of work, which made me laugh out loud, but also brought me to tears.

Ryan is an extremely engaging performer, with wit and warmth enough to envelop her audience. There are animations too: this is a multi-media piece. But it never feels heavy-handed, or techy-for-the-sake-of-it, like such things sometimes do. The animations here are charming and quirky, and used to excellent effect, contextualising Ryan’s modern-day dilemma and adding layers of meaning to the fears she faces. Veronica Coburn’s direction is lovely too: there’s an ease and subtlety to the whole production, which makes it most enjoyable to watch.

This is a must-see: a deeply personal play with universal appeal. Don’t miss it.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

 

Abigoliah Schamaun: Namaste, Bitches

06/08/17

Underbelly Cowgate, Edinburgh

Abigoliah Schamaun is as bold and unusual as her name. In fact, her moniker is one of the reasons we’re here (it’s memorable; we saw it on posters last year but didn’t have time to see her show); the other reason is Global Pillage, the remarkable Deborah Frances-White’s “diversity-based panel show.” The episode featuring Ms Schamaun was a stand-out, and made me want to see more of her output.

Namaste, Bitches reveals Abigoliah to be a hot mess of contradictions: she’s a fitness freak who drinks and smokes; a tattooed shave-head who loves Hello Dolly. And she’s unexpectedly sweet and appealing too. It’s a genuinely quirky, unpredictable hour, with delightfully warm and natural audience interaction. Philip and I are even called upon to learn some Bikram yoga, which definitely makes us look silly, but we’re not the butt of the joke; it’s a friendly kind of show. We laugh throughout, and leave with big smiles on our faces, feeling good about ourselves and the evening we have had.

She might be losing her voice, but Abigoliah has a lot to say – and it’s definitely worth listening to.

4.2 stars

Susan Singfield

Sarah Kendall – One Seventeen

05/08/17

Assembly George Square, Edinburgh

Reviewing at the Fringe, as we do every year, we make a point of trying to see as many new acts as possible – but there are some we just cannot allow ourselves to miss and Sarah Kendall definitely belongs in that category. This skilled storyteller from Newcastle Australia really is a spellbinding performer, who never fails to create a fascinating and highly original show. One Seventeen is no exception, even if I’m left a little confused by the relevance of the title.

She wanders out onto the stage and launches straight into a seemingly unconnected series of events, with recollections from her childhood cleverly intercut with more recent observations of her life in London. The subject matter is so disparate – from an attempt to see Halley’s Comet to a friend’s cancer diagnosis – that, at first, you really can’t see how she’s going to tie it all together. But then she does – effortlessly, satisfyingly – utilising incredible skill and just the right amount of pathos, holding the audience in the palm of her hand all the way through.

Kendall isn’t exactly a comedian, though you will laugh out loud at much of what she says. She’s a talented writer who crafts her material with incredible precision. Little wonder she gets nominated for so many awards.

If you’re at the festival this year, don’t miss her. She’s really rather wonderful.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Francesco de Carlo: Comfort Zone

05/08/17

Underbelly, George Square

Francesco de Carlo is Italian. Of course, his name on the poster means this doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, but – in case you were in any doubt – his accent confirms it. ‘This isn’t a character,’ he tells us. ‘This is my real voice.’ And that’s pretty much what this show is about: being a visible immigrant in Brexit-era Britain (although he’s at pains to point out that he’s not suffering, that he’s not comparing himself to a refugee).

De Carlo came to the UK just as we decided to leave the EU. He’s sad about the decision. His viewpoint is interesting: the show positions him as an outsider, but he has an insider’s knowledge of the European Parliament because he used to work in its press office.His opinions are interesting and informed. He praises Britain too: reminds us of the reasons we should be proud of what we have. We don’t need to be racist or xenophobic; it’s demeaning and unnecessary. Get out, travel, see as many places as you can – that seems to be the underlying message here. If you can learn about the world, you can better understand your own place in it.

His observations are funny too; he has a disarming sincerity, which is very charming indeed. The crowd inside the Wee Coo warms to him immediately, and clearly enjoys his musings on the Italian comedy scene. It’s a lovely, enjoyable way to spend an hour, being gently coaxed to leave our comfort zones. Well worth a look.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Margarita Dreams

05/08/17

Underbelly Med Quad, Edinburgh

Margarita Dreams is essentially a series of comedy sketches, tied together with a loose narrative. The conceit is simple: Dave (Jason Brasier) is on holiday in Mexico. On the beach, he drinks a few too many margaritas and falls asleep. What ensues is the product of a tequila-and-sun-soaked brain, all fevered imaginings and absurd nonsense.

There are a few standout moments: Jack Baxter’s song about string theory is enjoyably silly, and Bella Speaight’s ill-fated assignation with Brad Pitt is also nicely played.

But, in all honesty, the piece doesn’t really work as a whole. The dreams are curiously flat and it all feels a bit one-note. The jokes, by themselves, are rather weak, and I suspect they need much bigger, more exaggerated performances to make them fly. The actors are clearly giving it their best shot, but there isn’t much of substance for them to work with here. As it stands, there’s a whiff of the end-of-term show about it – and disco dancing isn’t funny in and of itself. There’s clearly some promise in this piece, and maybe it’ll grow with the run, but right now it’s landing somewhat wide of its mark.

2.5 stars

Susan Singfield

John Robertson – Dominant

04/08/17

The Stand 5, Edinburgh

John Robertson is, as ever, in no mood to take any prisoners. After a noisy rock-star intro, the antipodean raconteur bounds onto the stage and starts to lay into us, his beloved audience, tearing us to pieces with a string of savage observations. He tells us he has ‘too much confidence’ and even predicts exactly how the show is going to end. If we think he’s exaggerating for comic effect, we’re wrong. It happens exactly as he describes it and I have to say, it’s probably one of the most bizarre conclusions to any show I’ve seen in Edinburgh. And trust me, I’ve seen a lot.

Robertson is a regular fixture on the Fringe, both with his stand up routines and his interactive Dark Room role-playing game. (This year, he’s even doing a kids’ version of the latter, but don’t be fooled into thinking that means he’s generally appropriate for children – he’s most definitely not!) Tonight’s scattershot barrage of stories touches on all manner of subjects: his sexuality; the shortcomings of the room in which he’s performing (he describes it as a partially-filled broom closet); the strange mannerisms of the people who’ve turned out to see him; the fact that the woman from whom he’s just stolen a drink might have given him herpes; the news that the pet dog, whose death provided the inspiration for last year’s routine, isn’t actually dead because… well, you’ll have to see the show to find out about that.

It’s all (apparently) improvised – he proudly claims to never do the same routine twice – and, unless you’re very prudish, you will laugh yourself silly. You’ll also marvel at the man’s chutzpah, his invention, his intelligence and yes, his courage, because this is genuinely challenging stuff, much more so than what generally passes for ‘edgy’ material – mostly, I believe, because all of his excesses are anchored in some kind of reality.

In many ways, I think Robertson exemplifies the true spirit of the Fringe. When they come to hand out this year’s award, somebody should give him proper consideration, though I suspect he’s thought of as way too dangerous for that to ever happen.

Nevertheless, this show represents Robertson at the top of his game and, if you decide to pass him up for a bigger, safer bet, well, you’ll only have yourself to blame. You’ll be missing one of the best shows at the Fringe.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Butt Kapinski

 

03/08/17

Pleasance Dome, Edinburgh

Butt Kapinski is a strange man. Called upon to investigate a series of murders, he embodies every  cliché of film noir: he stands beneath his portable streetlamp, pulls his trenchcoat around him, mimes an obligatory cigar – before regaling us with tales of life as an NY PI. The brainchild and alter-ego of American performer Deanna Fleysher, he is an oddly engaging creation, and the audience joins in willingly with this funny, interactive show.

Okay, so maybe it doesn’t dig as deeply as it could – several thought-provoking ideas are introduced and then left hanging – and the narrative, such as it is, could do with a more convincing pay-off. But it’s gutsy and it’s fun, and Fleysher works wonders with what the audience gives her. The character-exaggeration is pushed to extremes (those vocal contortions!) and has us laughing all the time. I can’t say more here without giving too much away, but this is a fascinating and unusual performance, well worth catching if you can. And don’t worry about being ‘picked on’ – the audience participation here is entirely voluntary, and Fleysher has perfected the skill of homing in on those who want to get involved.

4 stars

Susan Singfield