After an interval there were another seven turns in the second half. First up was Steven Whitely as urban poet Wisebowm. His first piece, about the hard-hitting subject of gluten, was a little too close to Doc Brown's poem about tea. But Wisebowm added sound effects and samples to the mix too. Somehow though it did not really work. Despite some good touches it was sometimes hard to see whether he was sending up rap poetry or doing it for real. A closing dance routine to the Happy Days theme was simply bemusing, but at least it kept further Doc Brown comparisons at bay.
Spoof music hall act Ada Campe (pictured, by Louis Dalton) was greeted with a cheer as if she was a local hero and after hitting the ground running with a story about a hipster coffee shop encounter invited two people up to take part in some mind-reading, aided by a psychic toy duck. It is a mark of a skilled performer that they can pull audience participation off when the audience members don't really want to participate. That was certainly the case here. Despite some reticence on the part of her victims – and the fact that the trick was positvely antique – Campe, by day theatre historian Naomi Paxton, stormed it. She was the audience favourite and also the judge's favourite, being voted "top of the bill" in this non-hierarchical competition.
I liked character comedian/guitarist Bunny Hopkyns but maybe there wasn't quite enough to this spoof bluesman to earn him a higher place than joint third on the podium. His act basically revolved around a few fake anecdotes about hanging out at drug-fuelled parties with dead rock icons such as Keith Moon. Each time he was about to start to play a tune he'd be sidetracked by another dubious story. The funny thing was he did seem to be a pretty useful guitarist judging by what we heard, but this wasn't a music competition.
Dannie Grufferty was what you might describe as a 'normal' comedian. She was one of the few acts on the night to do Brexit and Trump material, but she kept the politics to a minimum. Like Stewart Lee and Bridget Christie she looked for humour in describing herself as a member of the liberal elite and always being right. It didn't work all the time but on a night when prop comics and gimmick comics seemed to dominate it was strangely refreshing.
Will Mars offered a different approach. He was the token low-energy depressive on the bill, telling his bleak gags about his recent break-up in a flat monotone. He had been making his mark on the New York scene only to come back for love and be dumped soon after the plane hit the runway. He was one of the few names on the bill I knew - Mars used to run the Joke Thieves night and had one excellent joke about googling his name that nobody can steal.
Irishman John Meagher is a name starting to feature on the comedy competition circuit and it is easy to see why. He is a compact, confident, powerful storyteller with a keen comic eye. On this occasion some of his gags didn't quite land, but when his material is as consistently strong as his delivery he may well go places.
And finally the show finished, as all comedy shows should, with a juggler. Jon Udry certainly did what it said on the tin, making his balls dance in the air, if you'll pardon the expression. He did slightly oversell himself though, at one point saying he was going to strip whie juggling and only getting as far as removing his jacket. It is hard to be truly original as a juggler but Udry had some memorable patter between his tricks. Maybe not a winner, but another potential booking for any La Clique/La Soiree talent scouts in the audience.
