Fringe comedy reviews: Kanan Gill | Bella Hull | In Memory of Me | Shane Torres | Chris Grace | Fab Goualin
Our critics’ latest round-up includes an Indian stand-up and movie star who dazzles his audience , an SNL UK writer destined for stardom, and a couple of American comics who aren’t as edgy as they think they are
Kanan Gill: Not This Again ★ ★ ★ ★
Pleasance One at Pleasance Courtyard (Venue 33) until 30 August
There’s an odd sparkle in the air tonight. And the laughter has a high-pitched excitement, as if people are seeing a hero in the flesh.
Kanan Gill, brought here by Soho Theatre, is one of the biggest stars of Indian comedy and a film star to boot. This is the second outing for this show at the Fringe and I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the people in this room also saw it the first time around.
It’s a tightly structured hour with a series of interlocking stories. Gill accidentally buys an expensive toaster, he tries to learn a language with the aid of an out-of-date phrase book, he gets frustrated with his bank for constantly warning him about fraud.
A quick scan of the room suggests most of those who’ve come to see him are of Indian origin, and Gill is most definitely playing for the crowd. He kicks off by teasing his audience for adopting European queueing habits. There is some maths-related crowd work that elicits a delirious response.
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Gill has charm, confidence and flair. He is both physically adept and verbally dexterous. He’s happy to clown around to offset his high status as a performer. At one point he expertly demonstrates how to adopt a more European facial expression. I have no idea what he was getting at – but the audience is in hysterics.
If you don’t have all the cultural reference points it can be hard to follow. But for fans of this smart confident comic the experience is clearly ecstatic. The thrill of seeing him in the flesh doesn’t wear off and his fans fill the room with shrieks of laughter and recognition throughout the show. I’ve never been to a comedy gig in Mumbai but it must be something like this. Claire Smith
Bella Hull: Mad Cow Disease ★ ★ ★ ★
Monkey Barrel (Venue 515) until 30 August
After deploying a few cheeky techniques to prove she’s not to be trifled with, Bella Hull jokes that her agent thinks her crowd work’s a bit predatory. This is followed by an audacious trick that leaves us questioning the veracity of everything she says – it’s such a clever, silly way of downplaying the seriousness of some of what is to follow.
Breezily sharing dark information and casually downplaying her demonstrably superior intelligence, Hull shows us once again that her childhood is fertile ground for fascinating comic material.
Having grown up in a “vortex of matriarchal poison”, she wasn’t used to having men around. Just as some people aren’t used to growing up with dogs, she grew up without dads. Indeed, the idea of having a man in her bedroom is as strange as having a horse in there; how does one form a healthy relationship with that template, especially when one considers oneself an “emotional terrorist”?
Having started stand-up at the age of 17, Hull has perfected the art of turning pain into laughs. Stories about her grandmother, from her hoarding to her wildly disproportionate response to a perceived slight about fruitcake, draw you right into the mind of a poetry-loving child who is now trying her darndest not to become an emotionally reactive person.
Jokes pour out of Hull like she was born to do this. Sometimes jaws drop at the darkness of the gags, or daft puns illicit affectionate groans, but there’s a joke in pretty much every sentence. Every word counts.
Considering she’s just finished the first season of one of the most intense comedy jobs on British telly (writing for SNL UK, to which she returns in a few days), as well as appearing on panel shows such as Have I Got News For You, it’s remarkable what she has found time to achieve this August. Bella Hull is going to be a star. Ashley Davies
In Memory of Me ★ ★ ★
Hoots @ Nicolson Square (Venue 63) until 30 August
A strident, one-woman justification for attention-seeking, Kat Higgins' forcibly delivered Fringe debut throws her family, Catholicism and plenty else under the bus in a fizzingly aggressive, fuming tirade.
As the only girl among three brothers, the Irish stand-up learned to fight her corner early and makes much of the neglect suffered by middle children such as herself. Her father doesn't emerge with great credit from the picture she paints of his hands-off parenting. But he's an exemplar of masculinity generally in Higgins' jaded worldview, where weaponised incompetence is the norm.
Still, the influence of Higgins' dad is of nothing compared to that of her older brother Michael. Revered as a saint by their mother, he's forever stealing her thunder, even when she stormed to the final of a prestigious comedy competition.
Naturally, there are mitigating circumstances for this situation and her rage that she discloses in time. But Higgins isn't predisposed to mawkish sentimentality or theatrically exploiting pain. And she advocates for recalling people warts and all, lest you distort what was real about them.
In Memory of Me carries a lingering emotional punch. But that's secondary to the impact of its well-worked routines, full of scabrous attitude and good gags. Jay Richardson
Shane Torres: Skinned Knees ★ ★ ★
Downstairs at Assembly Roxy (Venue 139) until 30 August
I think the real problem with Shane Torres is that his audience do not really know who he is. He tells us he’s from somewhere in Texas, he has an Irish mother and a Mexican father and he comes from a poor background. He has an interesting story to tell, which involves crime, death, homelessness, tax evasion and grief. But Torres somehow doesn’t manage to connect. I think he assumes that all the references that work in American comedy clubs will somehow work here.
He also has that annoying habit of some American comics of assuming their material is shocking and dangerous, saying things like: “Yes. I did go there. It’s going to get darker.” We’ve had dead dad shows here for years mate. Catch up.
He has a nice steady rhythm and you want to like him. But I suspect Torres has not given enough thought to how geography, sport and socio-economic differences are perceived differently in different parts of the world. That might sound highfalutin – but it’s what international comics have to do.
There aren’t enough working-class voices on the Fringe – let alone ones from Texas – so it would be good to discover what he has to say. Claire Smith
Chris Grace: 88% ★ ★ ★
Assembly George Square Studios (Venue 17) until 31 August
Chris Grace must surely be the busiest man at this year’s Fringe, starring in a bewildering array of shows, spanning numerous long-form improv offerings to late-night live board games.
Then there’s this, the LA-based comedian’s latest solo show, which is inspired by an otherwise liberal friend telling a lazy joke based on a racist trope. In an ever more divisive and tribal world, can we still have relationships with those we slightly disagree with or, by extension, enjoy a performer who doesn’t serve as an audience echo chamber?
A delightfully sex-positive trip through the world’s gay saunas leads to a variety of intentionally-divisive topics – from AI and (inevitably) Donald Trump, to the BAFTA racism row. It’s a great idea for a knotty hour and he relishes proffering opinions before undercutting them, adding provisos, and wrong-footing the audience; testing their perceived moral certainties and revelling in grey areas.
But there’s a sense that he isn’t willing to go far enough for the concept to truly work. A grandstanding promise to perform a problematic joke turns out to be more playground chuckles than blustering edgelord. There’s little here the crowd are likely to find disagreeable, ultimately sabotaging the whole endeavour. David Hepburn
Fab Goualin: Mixed Messages ★ ★ ★
Gilded Balloon Teviot (Venue 14) until 30 August
Dressed in Black Panther fatigues, Fab Goualin presents in a striking, seemingly straightforward way. But as a gay, mixed-race, middle-class, second generation immigrant of French and Nigerian stock from the leafy suburbs, he's actually at the sharp end of intersectionality and issues around class and tokenism.
With his precise, clipped diction, he's urbane and cultured. Yet like his mother, he's an accomplished code-switcher, happy to act “street” and project himself as urban when the opportunity arises, mortally offended when it's presumed he knows nothing about rugby union, despite his family having a professional interest in the sport.
There's substantial friction between his West African background and his homosexuality. Generally, though, Goualin presents his struggle as one of low-level micro-aggressions, his problems often internalised. For example, he interpreted the Black Lives Matter movement as a boon for his employment prospects in a more diverse-inclined moment, assuming privilege that he can chide himself for now. Seeking external validation less, he's doing the work needed on himself.
A decent Fringe debut, Mixed Messages is also something of the box-ticking exercise Goualin claims to abhor, necessarily so perhaps. Introduction complete, he can now pursue more ambitious stand-up without having to constantly qualify and contextualise his identity. Jay Richardson
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