Category: ff2015

[2015062] Lunatics Beer Garden – Late Show

[2015062] Lunatics Beer Garden – Late Show

Ro Campbell [emcee] & a big ensemble @ Producers Garden

11:15pm, Sat 21 Feb 2015

So… there’s a fair few late night ensemble shows now, isn’t there? They each seem to be trying to establish a niche for themselves: one may be strictly standup, another comedy-heavy with a little cabaret, others exclusively young artists, and so on. And being a bit of a fan of Ro Campbell, I thought I’d check out the show that he was emceeing and throw him some support.

And I discovered that the Lunatics Beer Garden niche is sheer, unbridled, almost scary drunken insanity.

It all starts out well enough: Ro does ten or fifteen minutes upfront, setting the rules and trying to corral the more unruly drunks sitting in front of the stage… and let’s be clear, there were a lot of pissed idiots in attendance (hey, it was a Saturday night Late Show, after all). Larry Dean came up and did a chunk of his Scottish gay material, Ivan Aristeguieta did his clever “Aussie Language” bit, and Nick Nemeroff… well, he had me re-jigging parts of The Schedule as soon as I got home. His spot was amazing; even amidst the drunken heckling, his quiet, hyper-restrained delivery got the crowd hanging on Every. Drawn. Out. Word.

After a bit of a break came a bit of human dartboard action. I wasn’t really expecting that. Wooden block over the spine, a dart gets thrown into a guys back, and he leaves the stage. Ummmmmmm… okay. UK comedian Pete Dobbing followed that up by telling a “worst gig” story, which rapidly devolved into a series of ketamine jokes. Darwin comic Amy Hetherington rounded out the bracket with tales from her worst holiday, with sidetracks into father abuse.

Another break, and Campbell announced The Bearpit: a heckle-friendly arena in which no protection is afforded to the comedians who volunteer. John Cameron kicked off with some savagely awful dick jokes, Elf Lyons bravely soldiered through some heckles, Danielle Andrews (another Darwin-ite) didn’t fare so well, and Dave Campbell copped a barrage of abuse from the crowd. The Bearpit looked like seriously hard work!

Finally, Angus Hodge convincingly won a rap battle against Patrick Carl… though it must be said that some contestants were obviously operating under reduced faculties.

This edition of the Lunatics Beer Garden Late Show was certainly eye-opening. Not only did it introduce me to the gloriously tortuous genius of Nick Nemeroff, but it also made me a teensy bit… ummm… scared to be at a show. There was a real feeling of lawlessness in the ‘Garden… but I suspect Ro Campbell wouldn’t have it any other way.

[2015061] My Brain Made Me Do It

[2015061] My Brain Made Me Do It

Freshly Ground Productions @ Tuxedo Cat – Rivers Studio

9:45pm, Sat 21 Feb 2015

Hidden under the “Theatre” section of the Fringe Guide was My Brain Made Me Do It, which teased me with the promise of short plays based on everyday accountability… which, given my own mental leanings, reeled me in straight away.

However, this septet of performances comes across more as loosely-linked sketch comedy than a serious attempt to elucidate about any mental health issues. And some of the sketches – The Tiger Woods Defense, Insecurity Guard, The Imaginary Breakup – are really quite witty, with the laughs coming from irrational responses to identifiable issues.

And whilst the humour is there, most of the sketches in My Brain Made Me Do It make the same mistake: they carry on past their natural conclusion and, as a result, outstay their welcome. And that may be a harsh criticism to make, it does tend to make the entire performance feel too long. Having said that, I got some additional laughs from this show from the quirky little takeaway pamphlet given to patrons, “ADHD and you – A comprehensive guide”, which is chock-full of wry jokes.

[2015060] Nicole Henriksen – Honeycomb Badgers on Acid

[2015060] Nicole Henriksen – Honeycomb Badgers on Acid

Nicole Henriksen @ Ayers House Museum – Loft

8:15pm, Sat 21 Feb 2015

Another year, another visit to my city by Nicole Henriksen, another pull-quote on her flyer stolen from this blog. And that’s totes OK, because the quote in context (which makes an appearance on the back of the flyer) is not bad at all. I’m pretty chuffed with that!

Anyhoo – Henriksen’s madness found an all-new – and odd, given the nature of her act – venue this year in the Ayers House Loft, a tight little space that was filled almost to capacity with a ready-to-laugh crowd… there were clearly friends of Henriksen in the audience, and her eyes lit up with recognition when she saw me enter the room.

As for the show… well, it’s more of the insanity that we’ve been seeing here since 2013: there’s still lots of video support (thankfully projected onto a white wall this year) to break up her ridiculously assured live performance pieces, and all her usual characters are still present. But there’s a strange thread of comparisons to Christ that permeates the material, which somehow gives a more thoughtful continuity to proceedings.

Honeycomb Badgers on Acid is cheek-numbing, eyebrow-raising, alt-comedy goodness. I still adore Henriksen’s work, and can’t wait to see further iterations of these characters that I’m growing to know and love.

[2015059] STRANDS

[2015059] STRANDS

Nigel Major-Henderson [dir] @ Channel 9 Kevin Crease Studios

6:30pm, Sat 21 Feb 2015

The Fringe Guide précis for STRANDS lays it out pretty clearly: “How hair and movement is tied together!” it exclaims. So I – along with a surprising number of other people (for a Fringe dance performance) – figured that there’d be some loose thematic elements in choreography that might invoke the thought of hair.

But as soon as STRANDS starts, I realise there’s going to be a bit of a problem… because the Kevin Crease Studio is not really the type of space to be performing a dance such as this. Sight-lines were terrible for all but the middle section of seats, leading me to employ that awful (and ineffective – when will I learn?) head-jerking-craning motion far too often.

For a young cast, the range of movement was pretty good… mostly. Some pieces felt poorly rehearsed, but others just felt poorly timed – the choreographer’s problem (or perhaps the choice of music). And whilst the soundtrack was certainly diverse – Kate Bush to System Of A Down – some of the editing was… well, rough: the music used in the reprise sounded like it had been cut with a rusty meat cleaver, and there were often long pauses with the dancers onstage waiting for their music to start.

The second piece stands out in my mind: highly active pop-ish dancing set to a ponderous classical piece created a memorable dissonance. The piece that had the dancers crawling towards light generated nice shadows within the space, but was again let down by poor timing.

There were moments of creative and physical movement goodness in STRANDS, and most of them related closely to the hair theme, including the pieces where dancers were joined via their hair. But as some point, I remember asking myself: When does it stop being inspirational, and start becoming fetishism?

…Not that I’m complaining, mind you. With hair like mine, it’d be hypocritical to whinge about the fetishist follicular focus of STRANDS. Some of the choreography, though, gave me plenty to whinge about.

[2015058] Kids’ Party Confidential

[2015058] Kids’ Party Confidential

Sean Murphy @ La Boheme – Upstairs

5:00pm, Sat 21 Feb 2015

Climbing the narrow stairs in La Boheme, I walked into the upper performance space to see the chairs and cocktail tables in the empty room populated by party hats. That made me super-sad – I’m always a bit heartbroken walking into an empty venue, but seeing the little party hats there, waiting for partygoers who (mostly) will never arrive? Wrenching.

By the time Sean Murphy started his monologue, a couple more groups of people had come in (including one ESL family who understandably struggled with some of the humour), and he cajoled us into wearing our hats to help set the scene. And Murphy leaps into action as a children’s party entertainer: costumed superhero, magician, and wrangler of ragged youngsters.

It wasn’t meant to be this way, he says, and there’s a bit of autobiographical character development to show us the desperation that one would need to contemplate such a career; but the money is good and the work is there, so much of the performance is filled with tales from his experiences: from costume complaints and mishaps, to lazy and bigoted parents (his employers!), to food and drink stories that would make a hyperactive child puke. They’re all in there, accompanied by hard-learned party management tricks: how to deal with a crowd that have eaten way too much sugar too early. How to deal with unruly or overly precious parents. How to change costumes in a car.

Everyone in the audience also got to tie their own balloon sword (another good tip to keep kids in line), and there were a few other small party games too.

Despite a few flat spots, Kids’ Party Confidential was a gently entertaining look at this weirdest of professions (says the childless misanthrope); as a half-hour show, it would be trim, taut, and terrific. At just under an hour, however, it feels a little flabby… and we all know how that looks in a latex costume.

[2015057] [title of show]

[2015057] [title of show]

Irregular Productions @ Bakehouse Theatre – Main Stage

3:00pm, Sat 21 Feb 2015

There’s been a fair bit of “meta-” around the place in recent years: meta-comedy and (especially) meta-theatre have been enjoying a lot of stage time. But [title of show] is the first time I can recall seeing a musical about the production of a musical… and, initially, it seems like an absolute winner.

Jeff and Hunter decide to write a musical to enter into the 2004 New York Musical Theatre Festival, enlisting the help of Larry (on keys) and Susan & Heidi (on vocals). Struggling to come up with an idea for their project, they decide to write a musical about writing a musical; the (surprise) success of the work leads to an off-Broadway run, Tony nominations, and the inevitable – painful – demise of The Dream.

Much of the time is spent with Jeff and Hunter chewing over the creation process, and this is really interesting (and occasionally introspective) stuff; when the entire ensemble come together, songs tend to be a bit more pointed and humorous. There’s a fair bit of insider knowledge and references to other musicals – the provided glossary (or “[tos]sary”) is very handy – but the enthusiasm in both the script and the cast get any obscure points across well. The cast are uniformly excellent, with bold acting and strong voices, and the script (based on the true story of writing a show about writing a show) is well-weighted, funny, and touching. It’s an incredibly entertaining hour of musical theatre.

The only problem is that the show goes for ninety minutes.

The final third of [title of show] attempts to tie an unnecessary bow on the narrative with the explosive success of the work becoming a (somewhat predictable) millstone… and the plot becomes completely limp as a result. The songs lack the humour and punch seen earlier, and performances become less assured; it really felt like the show fell off the rails. And that’s a shame, because two-thirds of the show were simply brilliant… the final third, however, left me with an unsavoury taste in my mouth.

[2015056] How we stopped the end of the world : The adventures of Broer & Zus (brother & sister)

[2015056] How we stopped the end of the world : The adventures of Broer & Zus (brother & sister)

Eloise Green & Sam McMahon @ Royal Croquet Club – The Black Box

2:00pm, Sat 21 Feb 2015

Broer & Zus – Dutch for “Brother & Sister”, as indicated in the title of the show – are quirky twins who’ve emigrated from the mountainous regions of Europe to Australia. Eloise Green & Sam McMahon aim for charm with their characters, but there’s something about them that keeps them at arm’s length; it’s almost like they’re too quirky, or that the stereotypes they’re aiming for are alien.

Or that I’m too old.

Broer & Zus compare life at home and life in Australia through drawings, projections, and puppets; they also spend ages describing their first day at school. All these stories come across as incredibly twee, and there seems to be an incredible amount of effort into making everything as inoffensive as possible. There’s also a smattering of basic circus tricks, attempts at comedy that fail to engage (maybe because the youngsters in the audience can’t fathom the accent), and songs that rely on Broer & Zus’ mismatched voices for entertainment.

Look – The Adventures of Broer & Zus is clearly aimed at an audience much, much younger than me. Like, over forty years younger than me. They may have been able to find something engaging in this show, but I sure struggled.

[2015055] Funny Stuff For Happy People

[2015055] Funny Stuff For Happy People

Martin Mor @ Austral Hotel – The Bunka

11:00am, Sat 21 Feb 2015

I’ve taken to seeing a few shows targeting kids – or rather, “family shows” – every Fringe; they often provide opportunities to see performers delivering a more refined version of their acts. They’re usually ensembles, with comedians and physical acts pulled in to fill out a ten- or fifteen-minute spot… but in the case of Funny Stuff For Happy People, Irish comedian Martin Mor takes the whole show on himself.

There’s a fair few families in for this show, and they all seem to be the classic Mum & Dad & Two Kids combo. And when Martin Mor appears – clad in a safari suit, his spectacular grey beard flowing and acting as a humorous counterpoint to his tightly-cropped hair – he quickly pulls the rabble into line with the use of a whistle. This works remarkably well – apart from a few of the smaller children who felt the need to protect their delicate ears from the shrill noise – and Mor proves to have a remarkably good rapport with the youngsters, bribing them with lollies (after seeking parental approval).

Mom’s act is a combination of stories, jokes, magic, and a few short audience-involvement games. He identifies the bubbliest of the children in the crowd early – a pair of boys sitting (with their parents) at the other end of the back row to me – and Tom and Robert became his go-to-guys whenever a bit of material fell flat… and they always offered something to kickstart proceedings.

In short, Funny Stuff For Happy People was, indeed, funny stuff, and I doubt there was anyone in the room that left unhappy. Martin Mor’s comedy and stage manner was pitched absolutely perfectly in a family-friendly event, and even the adults couldn’t help but be entertained.

[2015054] Sunglasses at Night: The 80s Apocalypse Sing Along Cabaret

[2015054] Sunglasses at Night: The 80s Apocalypse Sing Along Cabaret

Geraldine Quinn @ Garden of Unearthly Delights – Deluxe

11:15pm, Fri 20 Feb 2015

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a big fan of Geraldine Quinn… but (as I’ve also mentioned before) I’m a bigger fan of 80s pop music. That was my era, man… new-wave, electro-pop, concept pop, mainstream, I loved it all. Hey, there’s even SAW songs that I will staunchly defend.

So a show where Geri applies her talents to my beloved decade of songs, and encourages an audience singalong? Oh man, I was so there… as were a shitload of other people, as the Deluxe appeared to be bursting at the seams.

Accompanied by Matthew Carey on keys, Quinn (looking, it must be said, spectacular) belted through a bunch of 80s classics, whilst handwritten (and hilariously annotated) lyrics were projected to facilitate an audience singalong. And singalong they did – the vast majority of the crowd were totally up for the experience, with cheers of recognition for many songs, and lots of untrained enthusiasm in the collective voice.

Yes, there was a lot of chat about (and around) the songs, and it was all heartfelt and funny – Geri clearly is a serious fan of this material, but is lovingly able to objectively cut it to pieces. And Geri’s singing? Awesome.

Anyhoo, here’s (most of?) the songs that were covered:

Quinn also announced there would be a fancy dress competition, for which there were three contestants in the crowd; each were summoned and directed to strike proud 80s poses onstage. The worthy winner had even dug up his bright yellow waterproof Walkman!

I had so much fun at this show; it’s like it was cabaret made explicitly for me. The time absolutely flew by, and I was a little bit sad when it was all over… but utterly delighted to have been a part of these raucous singalongs, led by one of my favourite performers. Love love love.

[2015053] Jono Wants a Wife

[2015053] Jono Wants a Wife

Jono Burns @ Tuxedo Cat – The Coffee Pot

9:45pm, Fri 20 Feb 2015

Jono Burns is a pretty good looking bloke, especially for someone – in his mid-thirties – approaching middle age. This is evident within seconds of this show’s opening, as he enters the room and strips down to his jocks. And that’s how he stays for the bulk of the performance: nearly naked.

Which is a pretty good description of his emotional display, too, as he opens himself up for scrutiny. He’s not super-happy about being single, and he’s made a lot of mistakes in his life so far… and he’s not afraid to tell us about them.

Burns uses one particular failed relationship – that with Emily – as the backbone for this personal exploration, but delves back into the past as well; there’s fragments about his childhood, adolescence (his early masturbation encounters were hilarious), and of his days living in shitty accommodation near Bondi. But he always returns to Emily, and it’s where some of his best work – both in the text of the narrative, and the direction of Burns himself – takes flight: the nature of their relationship sounds almost ethereal, and the warmth in his voice as he describes wrapping themselves in red curtains is just beautiful… and a nice contrast to the story of meeting Emily’s parents (again).

That’s not to say that Jono Wants a Wife drowns in emotional whimsy; far from it. There are a few brushes with death and darker emotions, and for one so fresh-faced, Jono can really wallow in the filth: a lot of sex-related antics are detailed colourfully, and there are way more cunnilingus references than one would expect. It all works in context, though… once you get used to the contrasts.

Jono Wants a Wife was really entertaining straight-up storytelling. Jono’s an absolutely likeable bloke: he gets you on his team early, and has you barracking for him all the way to the end. And, for material that is so personal, that’s a pretty good feat.

[2015052] JON BENNETT: IT’S RABBIT NIGHT!!!

[2015052] JON BENNETT: IT’S RABBIT NIGHT!!!

Jon Bennett (with Becky Lou, Boris & Sergey, & Lisa-Skye) @ Tuxedo Cat – The Coffee Pot

8:30pm, Fri 20 Feb 2015

So – Jon Bennett is pretty awesome, so It’s Rabbit Night!!! was inked in nice’n’early. But it turns out that this show owes more to last year’s Story (Whore) experiment than any of Bennett’s more scripted shows.

It starts off in familiar territory: Bennett is his usual affable self, and his accompanying PowerPoint decks are full of giggles… and rabbits. There’s so many cute bunny photos on display that there should be a diabetes warning on the show. And there’s also a requisite Rule – You do not talk about Rabbit Night – that I’m kinda ignoring. But it’s not long before Jon starts spinning one of his incredible stories: the orgy/threesome/foursome experience sounded terrifying, but not as scary as taking Fire In The Meth Lab to a nursing home in the UK.

But Rabbit Night is not all about Bennett’s stories; he has guests along to help out, but the running joke is that they’ve all mis-heard the “rabbit”. I can’t remember what Becky Lou’s interpretation was, but the look of shock and sadness when Bennett informed her of her mistake was priceless. Boris & Sergey (and their four human owners) bowled into the room expecting Puppet Night, and Lisa-Skye expected it to be Grab-It Night – a particularly tricky error as she spent her moments onstage offering a woman in the audience her breasts for groping.

As a result, It’s Rabbit Night!!! feels more like a cabaret ensemble show than a storytelling effort, but is no less enjoyable for it. A flakey lighting board also helped maintain a feeling that anything could happen, and when I chatted with Jon after the show, he mentioned that – apart from Becky Lou – he had no idea who the guests were going to be that evening when he started the show. And, once again, I’m left confused and amazed that any of this stuff ever comes together.

[2015051] Vanity Bites Back

[2015051] Vanity Bites Back

Helen Duff @ Tuxedo Cat – The Coffee Pot

7:15pm, Fri 20 Feb 2015

The small performance space atop The Coffee Pot has been transformed into a small TV studio, where Jill – played by Helen Duff with a gorgeously rounded British accent and dressed like a 50s cooking maven – greets each audience member with a biscuit and a kind word.

An aspiring TV cook, Jill informs the studio audience (and the viewers) that we’re going to be preparing a cheesecake; it’s not long before she’s circulating with the audience, trying to gee us up for the adventure we’re about to undertake. But there’s not a big crowd in this evening, and we’re usually pretty conservative audiences… so Duff has to work hard to get any audience engagement.

(Of course, the crowd might have been a bit more enthused had the biscuits been something other than Granita biscuits… I mean, we’ve got standards here! Granitas simply aren’t offered to people you want to keep as friends!)

Jill’s cooking style is… unorthodox, as necessitated by the lack of kitchenware provided by her unseen – but oft frustratingly conversed with – producer, Glen. You sense that not everything is right with Jill when she beats the shit out of the remaining Granitas with a frying pan for the cheesecake crust; her actions are bold and comical, yes, but there’s a violence of desperation in there, too.

Vanity Bites Back has a couple of threads running throughout, with Jill throwing linked narrative asides to the audience during prep and “ad breaks”. There’s also recurring comments to the audience, which aren’t always as sweet and cheerful as Duff’s demeanour would suggest; but despite its threat, the audience abuse isn’t there to humiliate us… it’s there for Jill Duff to open up herself. For as the show goes on, the side narratives coalesce into a solitary, heartbreaking expose of her own life… it’s an incredibly potent sting in the tail of this performance.

I really, really loved Vanity Bites Back. I was just cruising along, enjoying the show that I thought was there, but when The Heavy Stuff kicked in? Oh man, that was fabulous. Great writing, a wonderful hostess, and an emotional rollercoaster. Kudos!

[2015050] The Fifth Horseman

[2015050] The Fifth Horseman

Poor Paw @ The Crown and Anchor Hotel

6:00pm, Fri 20 Feb 2015

So I’m trying to figure out the Schedule and there’s this interesting sounding theatre piece that’s on at the Cranka for three nights and it calls itself “grim” and that’s enticing and I’m thinking about it and then I get a charming email from a member of the company asking me to come along and I think “hey that’s nice!” so I fire off my usual “I don’t do comps” message and go straight to FringeTIX to lock it in.

That’s pretty much how my Fringe planning works, only (usually) without all the friendly emails.

And so I find myself at the Cranka at 6pm on a Friday night… and pre-sales are about what I’d expect for this timeslot (i.e. few), and walk-ups are about what I’d expect for a Friday night (i.e. fewer). And that makes me sad, because Sam – that’s the chap from Poor Paw who contacted me – had mentioned that they were from Brisbane, and I always start feeling sorry for people who pack their hopes and dreams into a suitcase and fly halfway across the country for a long weekend to try and make a go of it in the choc-a-bloc Fringe programme only to wind up with an audience of about ten people at one of your three performances.

Anyway…

A dark and moody opening heightens my curiosity – what do I expect as I watch two black-clad shadows slink across the murky stage, guided by torchlight? – until the torch is dropped, there’s a quiet profanity from one of the shadows, and the comical tone is established. From there, The Fifth Horseman weaves a (frankly) incomprehensible tale that seemed to revolve around the reclamation of a $16.21 Avon debt… but there’s also a dead cat, more dubious door-to-door sales techniques, and a shitload of gothic face paint and costuming.

And laughs, let’s not forget the laughs. And some apocalypse or other.

Despite not clearly figuring out what was going on, I was genuinely entertained by the ramshackle antics of the protagonists, Gavin and Ripley; they’re constantly breaking the fourth wall (without making the practice feel too undergraduate), and there’s a delicious ascension in the final act before tumbling – pleasingly! – into a hot mess of a denouement. This may have been one of those I-don’t-know-what-I-just-saw-but-it-pleased-me kind of shows, but that’s just fine by me.

[2015049] Calypso Nights

[2015049] Calypso Nights

Theatre Beating @ Tuxedo Cat – Perske Pavilion

11:00pm, Thu 19 Feb 2015

I’ve been a big fan of Theatre Beating since the amazing Constantinople in 2012 (which was then followed by Squidboy and … him), so Calypso Nights was shortlisted on the company name alone. Which meant, of course, that once again I walked into a venue with little idea of what to expect.

A disappointingly small audience filed in to the Perske to be confronted by Barnie Duncan’s alter-ego for the evening, Venezuelan Calypso DJ Juan Vesuvius. Vesuvius was spinning records as we entered, performing the worst cuts between songs imaginable… stop/start, awkward gaps, massive BPM swings, mistimed cutovers. It was mesmerisingly bad DJing, and bloody hilarious to watch him appear ever-so-pleased with himself upon every failure success.

When Vesuvius starts speaking to us, it’s in thickly accented Spanish; after a minute or so, he visibly recognises our confusion, and is startled to learn that we’re an English-speaking audience, prompting a re-start of the show. And then we’re into the “content” of the show: an aural exploration of calypso music and rhythms. He plays examples of Soca (“It mean… cunnilingus,” Vesuvius explained), and helpfully contrasted it to a bad German-language pop record (“…and this is German linguist.”).

Throughout, the music is a glorious mix of smooth latin grooves, afro-beat, and cheesey classics, all mixed together in Vesuvius’ inimitable style… and his comments, whether on love or war or the music itself, were brilliantly twisted and surreal: bedding a lover or calming the North Korean warmongering were equivalent problems in Juan’s eyes, and his explanation of the Mexican flag adorning his DJ desk was hilarious.

As usual, I – the only person brave enough to sit in the front row – got roped into being Vesuvius’ stagehand for the evening. Initially involved in a hilariously protracted attempt to light & hold up a candle (during which Vesuvius never broke eye contact, his eyes full of fear and panic… and lust), I eventually got dragged up onstage to help perform a romance scene (with the aid of some terrible record covers) and play maracas (and I’m a bloke: rhythm is not my strong suit). The devolution of the performance into a dance party denouement just felt perfect.

Calypso Nights became my number one recommendation of the Fringe: I thought it was absolutely brilliant fun, and could think of nothing more enjoyable that seeing this with a group of friends and a couple of beers. Here’s hoping that Barnie/Juan return for the 2016 Fringe, because I can think of a heap of new friends that would love to experience this madness.

[2015048] Adam Knox – Listen Closely, We Haven’t Much Time

[2015048] Adam Knox – Listen Closely, We Haven’t Much Time

Adam Knox @ Producers Cranny

10:00pm, Thu 19 Feb 2015

The same friend that had recommended Marcus Ryan had also urged me to catch Adam Knox’s last Adelaide show; this seemed like a great idea when I was planning, but – after tickets had been bought & the aforementioned shocker had been seen – I was feeling a bit… well, less-than-confident.

There’s not much of a crowd in, and – based on the other young comedians in the room, usually a good sign of comps on offer – I suspect that there weren’t that many tickets sold. And Knox – who is chirpy and affable, despite recognising the loss he’s probably making on the room – opens up with some friendly banter, before taking a dark turn into the description of his mugging on Hindley Street (or was it a mugging?).

Knox has a battery of jokes in his arsenal, usually based on short half-stories, and he has a knack of creating expectation with his delivery… but what he lacks is polish. There’s little in the way of segues between his jokes – unless you count references to his notebook – and some of his stories drift off into nothingness; his closing joke (involving a friend at an abortion clinic) had a great build-up and had me keenly anticipating the punch, but the final line lacked the impact that it needed to comfortably close the show off. And that, unfortunately, had me leaving the venue unsatisfied.

But let me give credit where credit’s due: Knox is certainly capable of writing a good joke… or even a heap of great jokes. But he appears to be unwilling to string them together in any structured way… and that just makes the whole show feel lazy.