Going to the fringe in Edinburgh means drinking to much, talking too much, not eating enough, and not having nearly enough sleep. Here, in chronological order, are the comedy shows I saw in a visit short enough to avoid serious liver damage.
I was told that I would love Ben Moor, and I did. A wonderfully witty, literate and ingenious writer, with a compellingly stylised stage presence, his show - Not Everything is Significant - is a meditation on memory and fallibility in a narrative about a biographer who one day finds a diary for the following year with the entries filled in, though only until a date in September. It's a fascinating piece with far too many epigrammatic lines to remember, which is why it's good news that this show, with his previous scripts, is going to be published next April. The idea of a chain of pubs themed after J G Ballard novels is genius.
A sense of fallibility also runs through Zoe Gardner's Fault, in which the gifted and luminous comedian and actress confronts 'Zoe Gardner's' insecurities and explores the nature of performance and the voice inside your head that tells you you're rubbish as both a human being and a performer. It's a show which puts vulnerability on the line but still manages to be extremely funny, particularly in the inspired character of a child inviting members of the audience to a party while desperately wanting them to choose sandwiches rather than cake.
Cake and insecurity also feature in Kitten Brides, where the wonderful Maeve Higgins, a young Irish woman from Cobh, talks with apparent artlessness about her cat, her family, loneliness in a foreign country, and her weight. It's the artlessness that disguises art because, at the end, her themes come together and reveal the structure that has been there all along. And someone in the audience is given a cake that Maeve has baked to take home with them (upside-down pineapple on the night I saw her). I shouted too late.
Aspiration is the twin of insecurity, and aspiration is the theme of Isy Suttie's delightful The Suttie Show, which deals with dreams - her own, those of her friends, and those of four characters. Amy Winehouse's country cousin wants to be a musical health and safety campaigner, Melodie the hairdresser from Liverpool wants not just any bloke, Billy enters endless talent shows, and Mr Mississippi would just like to get a lady into bed. With her engaging mix of autobiography, observation and songs, Isy provides a memorable show, packed with warmth and laughter, and ending in an affirmative singalong to make even the grumpiest join in with a smile.
Watson and Oliver don't have a theme in their self-titled show, apart from referencing James Bond, first in a sketch where John Barry and John Williams have a musical face-off, and then at the end when they canter hilariously through the Bond films. Along the way there is a poignant love story between a matador and his bull. Watson and Oliver have worked together for a while, and it shows in their confidence and energy, and in their ability to improvise when something goes mildly awry. Like Isy, Ingrid and Lorna have a warmth which makes the audience complicit rather than spectators.
A newer sketch grouping, the Boom Jennies, are three young and promising women with a distinctive style and a well-presented show in Shindig. Their characters are often people who misunderstand, delude themselves or get themselves into situations better avoided, and it will be interesting to see how their career develops. Worth keeping an eye on.
Keeping her eyes on the stars (sorry) is Helen Keen with her wonderfully titled It IS Rocket Science which, as the title suggests, deals with space travel, mixed with some autobiography and a few puns. Assisted by her writing partner Miriam Underhill with lighting and shadow puppetry, Helen's hugely endearing show features a number of home-made props and some fascinating history as well as big laughs. She seems guileless but, like Maeve Higgins, has a lot of guile going on.
Winning and eccentric also describes Tom Bell, whose free show in a packed pub back room considers what it's like to be 27, The Age of Rockstar Death. With the audience encouraged to play with paints, vote for their favourite wife of King Henry the Eighth, and back Tom as he sings an angry song that he wrote when he was 16, one never quite knows what's coming next, except that whatever comes next is going to be funny.
Demonstrating his versatility, Tom also features as Tommy in Tommy and The Weeks (Ed being The Weeks). Their Powershow is a brilliantly constructed conceit in which Ed has created an autonomous show that first runs itself, then turns vicious. The hour is stuffed with comic inspiration - Ed going online with his guitar and singing e-mails, Tom offering a telephone advice service to celebrities, the pair having a nap halfway through - and, like Watson and Oliver, the benefits of being an established partnership pay off in real style. Their contrasting personalities - Ed confident, wanting to be in charge but not quite achieving it; Tom will o' the wispy but with a backbone - make them a double act of real authority and style. They're not like any other double act, but they feel in the classic mould.
Anyone been up and seen something they liked?
