[Jenny Wynter] portrays most of the other characters in the performance, including a passive-aggressive neighbour who is at pains to point out that her Viking birthday cakes for her Viking son are always hand-made and orgaaanic.
Reaching our sea-girt shores only two years ago, if Ivan Aristeguieta at first put himself forward as an ‘outsider looking in’ comedic observer, he transcends that schtick here.
Isabel commits to her role with such vigour that you believe her as a child star, even though she’s clearly at least a foot too tall. And that’s what makes this satire work so ridiculously well.
Katerina Vrana is a Greek comedian and actor who lives in the UK, and this is where she derives most of her observational humour. Her show is a delightful mix of Greek and British humour, which provides a weird but hilarious combination through which Katerina expresses her subtle but deep-seated desire to place herself on the British throne.
Jesus, why do the people with the fish stickers on their cars drive so slowly?
On the whole his material tended toward the refreshingly intimate, but these bits about illness abutted somewhat awkwardly with the occasional political outburst more in line with his public or television persona.
Death of a Sails-Man follows sensibly in the chronology of Simmons’s material, and could possibly be argued to be a relatively safe show for the comic, though admittedly the word has little meaning given the context.
Casey is immune to awkwardness; he’s the kind of bloke who keeps digging so far into a hole that when he finally ploughs through to the other side you are helplessly laughing. He is the best man you are silently willing to stop speaking before he ruins the wedding, crossed with the buddy you want to cheer on.
The idea behind Nerdlesque is that nerd culture meets burlesque performance, and there were plenty of tributes to Lord of the Rings, Star Wars and even Predator. Unfortunately, the segues between acts were far from seamless, and this was a show that showed it stitching.
True Story is a completely original cabaret piece based on strange but true tales collected from all round the world. From a vengeful dentist to a kid that dreams of mythical creatures, Ruth Wilkin compiles these wacky and wonderful stories into delightful cabaret ditties.
Hans the German took to the stage in typical flamboyant style – overtly loud and donned in a revealing sequinned bodysuit. This was only the beginning of many risqué costume changes and dance moves that would be performed in front of a packed Spiegeltent that night.
Chelsea Evans and Eddie Morrison deliver remarkable performances, clearly exhibiting every emotional nuance and change of beat. Not a second is wasted, and director Lisa White and assistant director Hannah Bennett should be praised for their innovative and breathtaking use of the confined space available.
Green flies energetically through his show from one priceless anecdote to another and even where a joke fails to land, or an accent suddenly switches continent, he brings the laughs back with clever improvisation and quick wit.
It is scarcely to be believed that so much can be packed into a single hour, and yet in La Scala’s presence time stops and you find yourself spellbound.
I reserve the highest props for comedy which looks to be personal, daring, sophisticated and original all at once. Of the few shows at this Fringe that tick all those boxes, Red Bastard has to be one of the most obnoxious and crass entries in the category.
