Lewis Shaffer Is Free Until Famous, £5, Just The Tonic at the Community Project, Edinburgh Fringe 2015

Lewis Shaffer is something of a legend in the comedy world, dividing audiences between those who see quirky humour and promise in what he does and those who find him embarrassingly unfunny.

An hour with Shaffer is certainly an unforgettable experience. Mine started with him quickly identifying me as a reviewer as I picked up my complimentary ticket at the door of the Community Project. He demanded to know if I intended to write a favourable review of his performance. I replied: "It's customary to watch the show before deciding", to his evident dissatisfaction.

Inside the venue, Shaffer chose to illuminate his 17-strong audience in bright light, leaving them with nowhere to hide. He started strongly with some sharp lines but quickly strayed into dodgy territory when he claimed his former girlfriend, and love of his life, had had a cock, a situation which had eventually led to him leaving her! "Was this the right decision?" the besuited, grey-haired middle-aged American repeatedly demanded of his audience.

From this juncture, as an audience member you felt you were on the rack as Shaffer continuously harangued you for your views and advice on this absurd fictional scenario.

As he wandered through the punters, getting too close and stroking heads, it seemed people were laughing more out of nervousness than mirth.

Although there were some good lines and funny banter, this part of the show dragged on far too long and started to feel a little exploitative. 

Shaffer seems strangely innocent, with apparently no idea of where boundaries of taste or behaviour lie or what is inappropriate. In the second row were three gay men, on whom Shaffer focused a lot of attention.

One of them commented afterwards that they, not Lewis Shaffer, had been the afternoon's entertainment. A trifle harsh, perhaps, although Shaffer's act was dangerously thin and reliant on a presumed trust he had failed to build with his audience.

Nevertheless, an hour with Lewis Shaffer is an utterly unforgettable experience.

***  

Ollie Wilson, MatchFit Media

Matt Price: The Boy with Cake on His Face, Laughing Horse, Finnegan's Wake, Edinburgh Fringe 2015

By Ollie Wilson, MatchFit Media

A ruddy-faced man mountain held court in the packed backroom of an Irish theme pub while televised sport blared in from the main bar. 

Several members of the crowd were determined to buy pints of Guinness for Matt Price, a Cornish giant, before he started his gig, so he obligingly waited for them.

Meantime, Price chatted to the remaining audience, asking what he should do if trouble erupted in the room. There was no sign of this happening. Nevertheless, he concluded, "We have two Glaswegian women who will fight, if necessary".

The missing punters and pints arrived and he launched into his main set, a high-paced, imaginative and very funny journey.

Price is Cornwall's answer to Johnny Vegas. He's naturally funny, with a taste for the surreal. His father's serenading of an over-indulged cat, Bob Marley's Redemption Song performed in a Cornish accent, his cack-handed attempt to offload a large and unwanted gift of cannabis onto the homeless were just three of his hilarious ideas and yarns.

It was a most surprising and delightful treat, lurking in an unexpected spot.

Matt Price has a great comedy brain, tremendous speed and delivered a thoroughly enjoyable show. As they say down in Cornwall: "Proper job!"

*****

Tony Law: Frillemorphesis, The Stand, Edinburgh Fringe 2015

By Ollie Wilson, MatchFit Media

 The shambling persona of Tony Law was in evidence even before the start of the show, shuffling about the corridors of the venue, trying to find the lavatory.

Around 200 people had queued up and filed in to see him - a great turn-out for a 1pm show early in the Fringe month. Law - clad in strange hat, cloak, lace-up shirt and baggy trews - began his act from the audience, with a string of off-the-cuff remarks.

Indeed, his entire set turned out to be an uncontrollable ramble: an apparently random riff through vague ideas and half-remembered material. Law chooses to come across as a drink and drugs-addled hobo, drifting through life like a big-bearded guy who sleeps under a canopy of stars.

Of course it is not that simple. He was once a young Canadian comedian who made an almost instant impact on the London comedy scene in the mid-to-late 1990s because of the slickness of his patter. And his mid-life crisis omnishambles is an act that would be impossible to pull off without great performance skills and depth of comedy material.

Law's lines can be deceptively clever: "It has taken a long time to get the confidence to continue doing this" and, about his beloved hound, "I need to be sober to look after the dog - what kind of a circle of hell is this?"

It was particularly funny when he donned a mask of a horse's head, played the trombone and then delivered a racing commentary with his problems and fears as the runners and riders.

The healthiness of Law's lifestyle may be in some doubt and his apparent inability to end the show without a doorman being forced to tell the audience, "The show has ended", was troubling. However, Tony Law is still a wonderfully funny man and not to be missed.

****

Susie McCabe: The Drugs Don't Work, The Stand, Edinburgh 2015

By Ollie Wilson, MatchFit Media

The poster for this show, featuring a wrecked-looking young women bathed in sweat, seemed to indicate a tale of drugs-addled angst - but the reality was somewhat different.

Susie McCabe's teenage battle with drug addiction was all too quickly glossed over, with a minimum of detail, leaving the field open for a pleasant hour of homely Scottish stand-up comedy about her partner, her cat, her dog, her backache and experience of Sky Plus.

It was not that what she served up was bad. Indeed, it was as comfortable as a well-worn pair of slippers. However, it was a tad unexpected. Rather than being like a character out of Trainspotting, McCabe came across as a fairly polite and respectable citizen.

The small, Scots-dominated audience clearly enjoyed her easy-going style. Her delivery was fluent and she left everyone feeling good about themselves.

Nevertheless, the material was not strong or funny enough to be truly memorable. Susie McCabe will have to move a gear or two to make the comedy big league.

***

    

Phil Nichol, I Don’t Want To Talk About It, The Stand, Edinburgh Fringe 2015

When you hide at the back of a comedy gig, it comes as a shock to end up with the comedian virtually perched on your shoulder, wobbling just behind you on a rickety wooden ledge that threatens to give way at any moment.

However, this is exactly what happened when Phil Nichol, one of the most talented and energetic stand-ups in the business, found his new show was flagging. The Canadian comic climbed over chairs and pretended to make a pass at a young man in the audience before mounting the mantelpiece from where, to great laughter, he continued his act.

Nichol has written and delivered some amazing Fringe shows in his career including The Naked Racist, which won Edinburgh’s big comedy award, the superb Nearly Gay and the inspired Welcome to Crazytown among others. Sadly, this year’s show is not classic Nichol.

Hung on the premise of having been dumped twice (by the love of his life and on the rebound by another girl), Nichol declared, “I don’t want to talk about it” and proceeded to regale his audience with unconnected pieces of material: an insect that makes love for 24 hours before dying, a dispute over a word for "unGoogleable", his admiration for the Academy Award-winning actress Helen Hunt, and other bits and bobs.

There is undoubtedly a mesmeric quality to his performance but the apparently random nature of the set made it less satisfying to watch than a thematic show. He fell back on audience interaction, particularly with a quirky girl named Alice and the young man he claimed to fancy.

The show’s climax came when a fairly obvious plant heckled Nichol on his performance and was invited onto the stage to have a go himself. He picked up a guitar and beautifully sang Rod Stewart’s I Don’t Want To Talk About It, before he and Nichol offered to lead the entire audience down to their subsequent Cray Cray Cabaret at the Assembly Rooms, as their VIP guests.

Phil Nichol is a great performer but as a show I Don’t Want To Talk About It is by no means his finest hour.

****

Ollie Wilson,

MatchFit Media