My last reviews round-up closed with a review of Hannah Byczkowski. You could say that Hannah is Stoke-on-Trent's answer to Lindsey Santoro. Or Lindsey Santoro is Birmingham's answer to Hannah Byczkowski. Both are brash, confident women, not afraid to be on the smutty side when called for and also guaranteed to make you laugh.

 

Santoro's follow-up to her Edinburgh Comedy Award Best Newcomer-nominated debut is It Was Like That When I Got Here (Monkey Barrel, four stars). It finds her telling it like it is about subjects ranging from her appearance on Celebrity Mastermind (let's just say she didn't triumph) to having sex with her husband in a hot tub to giving birth – when she was triaged and they thought there was a problem she went to the front of the queue – she describes it as speedy boarding. 

 

Motherhood has inevitably given her plenty to talk about, from what has happened to her boobs that they didn't warn her about to the real meaning behind children's books including The Hungry Caterpillar and Peppa Pig. And then there's her friend Julie with IBS... Santoro has a great eye for detail and a cutting turn of phrase. It's not profound or sophisticated, but if you don't laugh a surgeon must have removed your sense of humour. Unlike her Mastermind appearance it's a triumph. 

 

If there was an award for Best Diction, John Luke Roberts (Monkey Barrel, four stars) would romp home. I found myself consigned to the back row at the venue but could hear every word as if he was chatting next to me. Over the years Roberts has done experimental shows, clown shows and downright odd shows. Despite the characteristically odd title, What I Talk About When I Run About, Talking, this is a more accessible, conventional storytelling show prompted by a friend's death and his own brush with mortality.

 

JLR has plenty to draw you in here, from his concern about magicians being creepy to his anxiety about a health problem which resulted in him spending the night in A&E (his eloquent description of the bed is particularly notable). His parents are both doctors but hadn't really been able to advise him and, in fact, not even the hospital could quite explain his condition, but they did treat him well enough that he is able to live a normal life. This story is weaved in and out of other thoughts – there's a superb routine about the Skechers advert featuring Sofía Vergara that is so good I had to look it up as soon as the gig was over. Plus poetry and an explanation why his name isn't Judi Dench.

 

If there is an award for Mr Showbiz then Max Fulham (Pleasance Dome, four stars) would definitely make the shortlist. The baby-faced 28-year-old is a ventriloquist and his show is set in his attic, where he is rummaging around old cardboard boxes and thinking about the past. This is a cue for old puppets to be dusted off, including one featuring a mini-skirted Theresa May. Do you want to feel old? There was someone in the audience who didn't know who Theresa May (teens can google her) was. 

 

Fulham is in the tradition of Nina Conti and Paul Zerdin, the kind of puppeteers whose puppets answer back. He also has something of a shiny floored mainstream feel to him. He says he has supported Engelbert Humperdinck (under-forties can google him) onstage and I can believe that. He sticks his hand up a number of bottoms, most notably a version of his granddad, who first gave him the showbiz bug. Fulham also has a children's show at the Fringe, but if you don't mind a little bit of swearing this show should appeal to all ages. It even ends on an emotional note. Maybe not a dead dad show, more a dead granddad show. 

 

Harriet Dyer is one of the rising stars at this year's Fringe. Later this year she will be appearing on Last One Laughing and I can't wait to see what viewers make of her. In the wild onstage she is a total one-off. Her show, Easily Distra... is about how she gets easily distracted. Or at least it would be if only she could stick to a single subject.

I say she is a one-off but actually the person she reminds me most of is Ross Noble. I don't know how much of the show I saw is scripted, but even her tangents go off at tangents. Fortunately most of what comes out of her mouth is hilarious, whether it's wondering why there are so many moths in the room, talking about getting a cow to lick her boyfriend's head to cure his baldness or growing up in Cornwall and finding herself saying "shiver me timbers." She can be a bit Su-Pollard-on-acid at times, but I could have listened to her till the head-licking cows came home.

 

As well as being a comedian America's Olivia Raine Atwood is a matchmaker in real life and her show Oops (Gilded Balloon, four stars) is about how she has effectively been a matchmaker all of her life. It's more theatrical monologue than stand-up comedy but there are some big laughs in it as well as life lessons as she takes us through her life with the aid of her youthful writing and some pictures of meerkats. 

 

Atwood describes herself as the girl who would never get asked the the dance, but actually she seems to have had quite a few boyfriends in her time and even a senior prom date that didn't quite go to plan when he parked the car expecting more than a hug. When she was with one boyfriend she went for a run after a heavy curry the night before and, well, let's just say someone needs to tell her about Paula Radcliffe. Elsewhere Atwood - nicknamed Flatwood by the high school Mean Girls – shares her childhood diary in which she charts her daily crushes and dreams of having a cool nickname. Slickly told with some energetic act outs, this is a story about self-esteem and growing up which women - on either side of the Atlantic – will relate to. It does feel aimed at a female audience but definitely not to the exclusion of men. 

 

 

 

Harriet Dyer (bottom) picture credit: Kurniawan Dwi Nanda