BriTANicK: Dummy
with Brian McElhaney, Nick Kocher
Pleasance Courtyard, Above • Fringe, 2024 ★★★★★
Even if they're big time writers and performers, Brian McElhaney and Nick Kocher return to Edinburgh with a new show that turns their previous masterclass (Feb 2023 review) inside out and upside down. This is a staggeringly smart and funny concoction, sketch comedy that spirals and dovetails hilariously into an enormous meta-joke. So even if it kicks off in the usual formulation, with Brian as the nice-guy alongside outrageous and deeply wrong best pal Nick, things quickly begin to turn surreal.
The script begins to shift after Nick confesses his addiction to puppet porn. This show has a sponsor that sells things like "attention from your father 30 years ago", leading to a series of wildly inventive time-twisting gags that are peppered right to the end of the show. Along the way, they interact with the disembodied voice of their director Riley, who appears to be a toddler. And each scene plays on ideas of people being controlled by someone else in a variety of laugh-out-loud ways.
Expertly performed in a way that makes it feel improvised and surprising, the show is a terrific mix of stand-up, sketch comedy and slapstick clownery, with moments that are silly, dreamlike and sometimes rather dark. And where it goes is inspired, exploring ideas about ambition, nature and nurture in ways that are both amusing and sharply pointed. As all of the gags begin to collide in the final stretch, it's impossible not to feel like we've been played by experts. And it's also impossible to imagine quite what they will come up with next.
details: BRITANIK • 8.Aug.24
Pleasance Courtyard, Upstairs • Fringe 2024 ★★★★
Quite possibly the most miserable comic at the Fringe, Huge Davies is so relentlessly bleak and tetchy that he keeps the audience in the palm of his hand, taking us through various goofy songs that spiral into raucous rants or demonic chants. He continually notes that this is the worst crowd he's ever played to ("Why aren't you clapping?"), moaning if even one person doesn't join in ("I feel like I'm doing all the work up here"). It's ridiculous, and very funny.
With a keyboard strapped to him, he plays the show as if everything is going wrong, from his tech guy Alec's missed cues to an issue with a section of the keyboard that plays bullet shots instead of notes. Songs range from an account of his poor childhood to a profane ditty about a hot tub and a number passed down through generations of ancestors about trying to maintain an empty seat next to him on the train. Each of these evoke pop culture references that have been warped through his own distinct worldview, often diving in a bit too deeply into big hot-potato topics.
Songs circle around family members, and Davies presents them with deadpan wit underscored with flickers of emotion. He draws knowingly on his Asian heritage throughout the show, noting pointedly that he's the only Asian in the room. "I thought white people would like this," he says about his Friends-based riff. And in the comments about his family, moving and resonant elements undercut the otherwise unhinged and downright abrasive flourishes. In the end we almost feel like we've been assaulted, and yet we leave with a smile.
details: HUGE DAVIES • 8.Aug.24
by Casus Creations
Assembly George Square Gardens, Palais du Variété • Fringe 2024 ★★★★
Lyrical and expressive, Apricity is a mix of acrobatics and dance that's unusual because there are no "ta da!" moments; the performers never ask for applause, instead transitioning smoothly into their next piece. So this is a strikingly beautiful show that looks almost effortless but features jaw-dropping feats of strength and balance. And there's an emotional undercurrent created with moody music and open-handed facial expressions, which makes it absolutely magnetic.
From Australia, this five-person crew features three women and two men of various sizes, but each of them lift others and are lifted themselves higher and higher until they literally touch the ceiling of the spiegeltent. Their fluidity is often astonishing as they transition inventively through whole series of moves without pausing, shifting weight from person to person imperceptibly to a create seamless whole made up of five very gifted parts.
Along the way there are eye-catching aerial routines with a ring and a rope, a cheeky interaction with a hoop, some playful tumbling and a climactic piece in which they walk on lanterns before building increasingly high towers and throwing shapes atop them. It flows so smoothly that the audience applauds whenever we can, but most of the time we are almost hypnotised by the astounding strength and skill, all delivered with a sense of wonder that reminds us that these performers love what they do. And it's infectious.
details: APRICITY • 9.Aug.24
For info, EDINBURGH FRINGE >
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C R I T I C A L W E E K
I only had two film screenings this week: the oddly conceived videogame action comedy Borderlands, with a great cast grappling with a ramshackle script, and the superbly uplifting true-life drama Radical with Eugenio Derbez. I also saw the colourful stage musical Frankie Goes to Bollywood and watched lots of FrightFest movies, which I'll cover when the festival is on at the end of the month. This coming week, I will watch Alien: Romulus in a cinema and more FrightFest movies, but mainly I'll be attending shows at the Edinburgh Fringe.
C R I T I C A L W E E K
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