I've always been a fan of awkward comedy. While it's nice to have humour that feels like a cosy warm blanket it's also good sometimes to have comedy with a jolt. That's what Huge Davies (Monkey Barrel, four stars) is doing in his current show. Sleep Paralysis Princess, in which he ruminates on the fact that he hasn't had a proper night's doze due to insomnia for ten years and it has dramatically affected his life. I know what he means. I get grumpy after one night of tossing and turning.
So while his show does have plenty of gags, it is all presented by a tall deadpan sourpuss looking even taller in his chef's hat. From the moment he walks down the aisle with the keyboard suspended around his neck bashing into shoulders you can tell this is going to be an interesting show. Davies has a withering attitude which suggests he doesn't want to be there. He says he doesn't like old people at his shows – probably because they sleep so easily. There's a routine about Henry VIII (one of this year's unlikely themes) and how an ex might have cursed him. His lyrically warped songs are good, I'd have liked more of them to break up the scowling. But if you like the kind of comedy that makes you uncomfortable between the giggles this may be the show for you.
Of course, I may have just caught him in a particularly self-loathing mood. Maybe he just got out of bed on the wrong side that morning.
Another oddity shaking things up is Stephen Catling in his show Clown Fish Out Of Water (Wee Container 1 at Hoots @ Potterrow, three stars). Catling is autistic, hardly a unique selling point at the Fringe, but he is the only performer who stands onstage with a fish mask on his head. As Catling explains he is not a clown or a fish. I think he is suggesting that he is someone who doesn't fit in anywhere. As he says of his autism: "I don't take everything literally, that would make me a kleptomaniac." He is surreal and funny with a unique view of the world. If you can tune into his frequency you will really enjoy this. I'd say the audience on the night I was there was divided about 50:50.
Catling is actually a very good absurdist joke writer – I've got 'Noel Fielding' written in my notes, though he may have offered that himself – but his stagecraft needs a bit of work. Sometimes he addresses his audience while standing away from the microphone changing headgear or searching for a prop and it's hard to hear him. There's not really any flow to the show, but then maybe that is a reflection of how his brain works. I definitely think Catling is working towards something memorable. This scattershot hour certainly has moments that stick in the mind, they just need to dovetail together better.
Guy Branum (Gilded Balloon, four stars), on the other hand, is about as slick as you can get. As well as being a successful writer on shows including Hacks, he is a super-confident performer who holds his audience in the palm of his hand from start to sparkling finish. He is not afraid to go walkabout, but don't worry if he selects you. This former lawyer might be a big and imposing powerhouse of a man, but he never humiliates.
Be Fruitful is about the meaning of life, touching on Darwinism, evolution and attitudes to homosexuality over the years, but it is also a quest for the meaning of Branum's life. He tells us his origin story, growing up as a gay man, trying to fit in, but being singled out. He talks fast, spooling out his thoughts about religion and faith with the aid of powerpoint presentation. It forever teeters on the brink of turning into a Ted Talk, but Branum is self-aware enough to realise this and always pulls back. Ultimately this feels like the story of a search for indentity. Branum wants to shy away from the cliches of gay identity but concludes by spectacularly embracing them. "I am what I am" might be an old disco ball cliche but its a cliche because its true. Branum is certainly a compelling performer – he grabs you by those disco balls and doesn't let go.
Demi Adejuyigbe made a splash in Edinburgh previously with a show in which he spent an hour building up to not do a backflip. In Demi Adejuyigbe Sells Out (Pleasance Dome, four stars) he spends an hour telling us how he is selling out, but really the only way this inventive US comic has sold out is that there isn't an empty seat in the house. His show packs a lot in, so I wasn't surprised to see that it had overrun. It kicks off with a very catchy song about rock and roll Santa – a Father Christmas who turns into a debauched reprobate. From this he has the idea to come up with a different seasonal hit to make some dollars. With the help of fans in the front row he tries for a Halloween number. Elsewhere there is a theme about trying to get a sponsor. Some more appropriate than others. One of the sponsors wants to replace Demi with an AI robot, though ROBBY is about as creaky as a beat-up old car, suggesting that AI isn't going to become our overlord just yet.
Adejuyigbe is an amiable presence throughout, playfully doing magic tricks with the audience, auditioning for James Bond, or trying to write a theme tune for a new Dracula at the Beach TV show. In an email exchange shown onscreen the producers love his musical ideas...but there's one small thing they want him to amend. There's an appealing comic sensibility throughout, both simplistic and smart. At times the show is predictable but it nearly always skims off in an interesting direction and certainly left the audience with a big laugh.
Rhys James (Pleasance Courtyard, four stars) has only opened his Edinburgh run this week. Is he too big for the whole Fringe? Or too busy? He's going to be touring from autumn and back on TV in September in the next series of Mock the Week and, as he briefly acknowledged onstage, some of the material in the show Chop Logic has aired on previous Mock the Weeks. But it certainly didn't feel old or tired. In fact maybe the fact that he was cherry picking his best TV quips was what made the laughs-to-lulls ratio so impressive.
if you want straightforward gags from soup to nuts look no further. James is middle class but not in the Ivo Graham/Jack Whitehall demographic, he's more of a semi-detached suburban everyman. His superslick material is absolutely relatable, whether discussing the demise of high street shops, boomers or, very briefly, politics (on Liz Truss - "a budget genuinely so bad it was shown on You've Been Framed"). He also has a smart economic theory – Turkey has the right idea, creating demand for all those Turkish barber shops buy getting everyone to have hair transplants. The show ends with a lengthy routine about his madcap dash to get a stool sample to his genial Welsh GP. Needless to say he delivers. Onstage if not to the surgery.
Read more Fringe reviews here.
Tickets for all shows at edfringe.com
Rhys James picture by Matt Crockett
