Riverside Comedy
Well, it’s the time of the year when comedians, London’s or otherwise, do their warm-ups before moving to a flat in Edinburgh for a month and pissing ten grand up a wall. Funds being what they are Ian and I take the advantage of the situation by avoiding Edinburgh all together, taking the modest climb down of watching TV’s John Oliver poncing about with twenty sheets of A4 in his hand,
So it was that, on Thursday and Friday, we found ourselves making the faintly awkward journey to the Riverside Studios to watch a variety of comedy turns. Each night was a double bill, and I feel I’m not giving too much away by suggesting that on each double bill there was an act in particular we had turned up for. Let’s see if you can guess.
On Thursday we watched John Oliver and Andy Zaltzman with their topical satire of the themes of the modern day. Their show managed, on the last of their preview shows, to run about 15 minutes over, which gave Mr Oliver no end of concern. As for the double act, I couldn’t help but feel that for the most part the relationship between the two of them didn’t really gel enough. The show was more of a shared monologue than a double-act, which is something bound to happen when both parties come from the same viewpoint. That said, I did enjoy the show much more than I’d anticipated, having sat through the tawdry dullness of John Oliver’s various TV appearances, on Iannucci’s gash, f’rinstance. On the plus side, at least Oliver didn’t do his tried and detested “my constituency had the worst turn out for the election since 1914…” material.
Stewart Lee followed. Oh yes. And having been previously promised a completely new set, rather than the one we’d seen previously at Amused Moose, etc. we were not disappointed. Stewart had even managed (and have you noticed I call John Oliver Oliver and Stewart Lee Stewart?) to write some solid material about The Tragic Events Of The Seventh Of July. Much of this involved his own personal experiences on the day in question, having slept through the bombings themselves and avoiding the news prior to his email account and mobile phone.
The routine ended with a hugely drawn out reworking of one of his old gags, which is actually a joy to behold. He has a tendency to really manipulate gags to fit whatever theme he wants to build the show on, and to stretch them out for as long as possible.
As for Friday, Ian and I only stayed for the first act, who was a member of the 2001 Footlights entourage. We’d enjoyed him in Edinburgh so naturally was interested in seeing his current act.
Mark Watson’s show involves the concept that his performance constitutes the average human lifespan, and the stand-up adapts to the relevant age of the performer, who ages a decade for every ten minutes. This only had the lightest effect on the material as it was performed, and the format seemed more important in dragging out aspects of the character that Watson has chosen to use for his performance. He spends the whole routine as a Welshman, slipping out only once after his “death” but not far enough for that particular stretch of material to work. That said it was refreshing to see a performer that was relatively hate-free, and only swore occasionally.
I’m afraid to say we didn’t stay for Danny Bhoy, but I’m sure he was very good too.
So it was that, on Thursday and Friday, we found ourselves making the faintly awkward journey to the Riverside Studios to watch a variety of comedy turns. Each night was a double bill, and I feel I’m not giving too much away by suggesting that on each double bill there was an act in particular we had turned up for. Let’s see if you can guess.
On Thursday we watched John Oliver and Andy Zaltzman with their topical satire of the themes of the modern day. Their show managed, on the last of their preview shows, to run about 15 minutes over, which gave Mr Oliver no end of concern. As for the double act, I couldn’t help but feel that for the most part the relationship between the two of them didn’t really gel enough. The show was more of a shared monologue than a double-act, which is something bound to happen when both parties come from the same viewpoint. That said, I did enjoy the show much more than I’d anticipated, having sat through the tawdry dullness of John Oliver’s various TV appearances, on Iannucci’s gash, f’rinstance. On the plus side, at least Oliver didn’t do his tried and detested “my constituency had the worst turn out for the election since 1914…” material.
Stewart Lee followed. Oh yes. And having been previously promised a completely new set, rather than the one we’d seen previously at Amused Moose, etc. we were not disappointed. Stewart had even managed (and have you noticed I call John Oliver Oliver and Stewart Lee Stewart?) to write some solid material about The Tragic Events Of The Seventh Of July. Much of this involved his own personal experiences on the day in question, having slept through the bombings themselves and avoiding the news prior to his email account and mobile phone.
The routine ended with a hugely drawn out reworking of one of his old gags, which is actually a joy to behold. He has a tendency to really manipulate gags to fit whatever theme he wants to build the show on, and to stretch them out for as long as possible.
As for Friday, Ian and I only stayed for the first act, who was a member of the 2001 Footlights entourage. We’d enjoyed him in Edinburgh so naturally was interested in seeing his current act.
Mark Watson’s show involves the concept that his performance constitutes the average human lifespan, and the stand-up adapts to the relevant age of the performer, who ages a decade for every ten minutes. This only had the lightest effect on the material as it was performed, and the format seemed more important in dragging out aspects of the character that Watson has chosen to use for his performance. He spends the whole routine as a Welshman, slipping out only once after his “death” but not far enough for that particular stretch of material to work. That said it was refreshing to see a performer that was relatively hate-free, and only swore occasionally.
I’m afraid to say we didn’t stay for Danny Bhoy, but I’m sure he was very good too.
posted by Hamilton's Brain | 9:03 am
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