Edinburgh Playhouse

James Acaster: Hecklers Welcome

22/02/24

Edinburgh Playhouse

I can’t complain: I get exactly what I pay for. “Hecklers Welcome” is written right there in big letters. Forewarned is forearmed and all that. But still, I leave the Edinburgh Playhouse tonight feeling disappointed and frustrated. James Acaster might welcome hecklers. It turns out that I don’t.

This show is Acaster’s response to his lockdown realisation that he wasn’t enjoying doing stand-up. That icky feeling waiting in the wings? Not excitement, after all – just nerves. And the audiences, peppered with hecklers and latecomers? They were getting under his skin. Emerging into the post-COVID landscape, the serenity prayer seems to have been his inspiration.

Accept the things he cannot change: hecklers gonna heckle.

So find the courage to alter what he can: his own response.

It’s an interesting social experiment. He’s got more than two hours of finely-crafted material; we can hear it if we want to. It’s all down to our collective will. Sadly, tonight’s three-thousand-strong crowd has more than its fair share of dickheads. I know from social media that there were barely any hecklers yesterday, and that the show ran on until 10.20pm. This evening, the shouter-outers dominate the second half with their inanities. This is why we’re not allowed nice things. Acaster bows out gracefully at 9.45pm.

The first half of the show is as excellent as you’d expect. Acaster is a huge talent, and this show is a fascinating exploration of his love-hate relationship with comedy – an origins-tale, if you like – examining formative experiences such as school assemblies, disastrous dog shows and cub scout membership. It’s all building nicely…

And then: “Poppodoms or bread?” “You’re using the wrong hand!” “It was a Friday!”

Ad infinitum.

They’re like rubbish graffiti artists scrawling their names over a beautiful building. I’m seething. Shut the fuck up.

Acaster takes it in his stride. That’s the rule. It’s only our own time we’re wasting. He’s a five-star comic, but this is a three-star experience. We never get to hear the denouement. Sometimes, other people suck.

3 stars

Susan Singfield

Fat Friends

20/04/18

Edinburgh Playhouse

There’s a lot to like about Fat Friends, not least its cast of disparate characters, whose lives are all dominated – in one way or another – by the slimming club that some of them attend. It’s refreshing to see such diverse body types represented on the stage, and for the larger characters to be just as fashionable and attractive as their slimmer counterparts. It feels very human, and there’s an appealing honesty that pervades throughout.

Our protagonist is Kelly (Jodie Prenger), who enjoys living above her parents’ chip shop and doesn’t worry one jot about her weight. Why should she? She’s happily engaged to Kevin (Joel Montague), and he loves her just the way she is. She’s proud of her mum (the rather marvellous Elaine C Smith), of course – Betty has lost five stone on her weight-loss plan, and is a contender for the prestigious Slimmer of the Year award – but Kelly doesn’t feel inclined to follow her lead. Until, that is, she discovers that her dream wedding dress isn’t available in her size. Determined that her big day should be perfect, she decides there’s only one thing for it: she’ll join Lauren (Natalie Anderson)’s slimming class, and enter into a race against time to fit into the dress.

The play is written and directed by Kay Mellor, and the characters are convincingly realised. Kevin Kennedy’s turn as Kelly’s hapless father, Fergus, is most enjoyable, but this is definitely the women’s tale, and the actors make the most of these boisterous, raucous roles. Elaine C Smith is a particular delight, and Jodie Prenger leaves no one in any doubt as to why she stays in work: she’s a bold performer, commanding our attention at every turn.

It’s not a perfect musical: the lyrics are quite simplistic, and the songs tend to comment on the action rather than informing it. That said, the music is lively and engaging, and it’s all very well sung. Some of the humour is a bit bawdy for my taste (think Loose Women and you’ll be in the right territory; if you’re a fan of that, you’ll enjoy this one) but there are people laughing all around me, so that’s probably just me. I love the set – a quirky facade of tipsy windows and shop fronts, which turn to reveal what’s behind the doors (the wedding dress shop, the church hall, etc.).

All in all, this is a bit of fun, with some great performances. It’s well worth seeking out.

3.8 stars

Susan Singfield