Okay, I’ve been rubbish. Deal with it, alright. Before I wrap this all up, I should point out that I managed to miss something from the last summary. At some point on the Monday I went to one of the free comedy venues and watched another comic whose name escapes me. Something alliterative with a double D I think. Londoner. He was very funny. Anyway, let’s move on to Wednesday.
Wednesday – Finally feeling normal again, which leads to my ability to actually go and watch a relatively early show. With a name like ‘Paddingtons Crack’, it sounds like it might have some promise. In reality it hasn’t. Instead we have two drama students, who admittedly do have some acting ability. Unfortunately no one seems to have told them where there writing falls down, which is nearly everywhere. A wafer thin plot allows them to do four or five character studies of ‘comic’ grotesques, but without any real story to carry them along on. Apart from a couple more faintly amusing names, I fail to crack a smile throughout the proceedings. If it had been listed in theatre I might have felt less cheated, but I doubt that they would have got half the audience they did (and the show did seem pretty packed out). Also the only performance I saw any actual walk outs from. At least they were pretty, or else I might have joined those who departed. What am I saying? I paid to get in and I’m damned if I’ll ever waste money that way. As afternoon progressed into evening, we managed to get into ‘An Englisman, An Irishman And A Scotsman – Exposed!’ This turns out to be far more enjoyable, a one man show, deconstructing many of the old jokes I fondly remember forgetting in my youth (I can not remember jokes). Some of the biggest laughs in the cavern it’s performed in are from these old classics, but a lot of the material that they are written around has some merit too. Plus you can’t help but laugh at props that don’t quite work – the Scotsman’s moustache losing its stickiness being a prime example. Next up we move on to a cinema that has been converted into a stage to see ‘News Revue 24/7′. I wasn’t holding out a great deal of hope here if I’m honest, despite the good press it gets every year. Expecting a weak student mish mash, I’m instead treated to a highly polished mixture of sketch and song, some in gloriously bad taste. Proof that there can still be some life in the comedy song, something I’d doubted for many years. Probably wouldn’t work on record though. Finally, we forego a late show and instead opt for watching something called ‘The Good Doctor’, all because one of our number had been fliered by someone thrusting the paper and shouting “Science?” It’s being held in a room above a pub, so again I am forced into having reservations. Again these are unfounded, as the mixture of skewed pop culture references, Hammer horror style mad scientists and barely special effects make our group the ideal demographic for the performers. We manage to arrive back at the flat earlier than we have during the week so far. I then stay up until stupid o’clock watching cartoons on Sky and then fail to sleep.
Thursday – Another fairly early show today, but before that I try to get film tickets. Having only seen a Film Festival programme that day, I notice the UK premiere of Mirrormask, a collaboration by Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean, is tomorrow. Obviously it’s going to have sold out weeks before, but I try to get tickets anyway. After I find the cinema. Which takes half an hour. To find out that they’re sold out. Thankfully it doesn’t make me late for ‘Arthur Smith’s Swan Lake’, which is a phenomenal experience. A walking tour/ballet, believe it or not. The stroll takes in a small housing estate round the back of the Pleasance and a short nature trail just behind it. Throughout the walk various people are in preordained places, dancing, singing, being dressed as the Elephant Man Presley and many other things besides. There is even an interval in which we are served shots of vodka by people in their pants, which have the genitals of Michelangelo’s David printed on the front. It culminates at a vantage point over looking Arthur’s Seat, Edinburgh’s mountain, where in the distance we can make out swans dancing half way up. It is a joyous experience and possibly my highlight of the week. From there we nip to the Spiegel Garden where I was hoping to buy tickets for the Tiger Lilies who the main guide had claimed were playing there last night there. It transpires that their last night had been last night and thus no tickets were to be had. Disappointed, but with spirits still high, it seems like a good time for some more free comedy instead. This time around it’s a showcase spot for a variety of acts, none of whom will I even try to recall the names of. The compere is also quite good, though does accuse me of sucking cock due to the kneeless trousers I’m wearing. He strokes the left one when leaving the stage, as if to say sorry. It doesn’t help. After a slap up meal we then head off for ‘Beergut 100′. This is Bill Bailey’s band, with vocals from The Actor Kevin Eldon and a couple of other faces from the comedy circuit whose names (and acts) have escaped me in the past as well as the present. Apart from an intro and outro of Bailey’s songs, the rest of the night consists of them doing punk covers. This is actually a lot of fun, helped by The Actor Kevin Eldon’s astonishingly good voice, plus numerous cameos throughout from figures as diverse as Rob(ert) Newman, Simon Munnery, Gary Le Strange and probably a couple of others I’ve forgotten. Then it’s off back to Spank again, this time arriving half an hour late and not being able to get seats until the interval. We get in some way into Gary Le Strange doing his own spot, like some bastard love child of Gary NuMan and Tom Lehrer. It’s quite amusing, but I don’t think that he entirely pulls it off. Next up is a repeat showing from Birdman, doing a slightly extended routine after the one from a couple of nights before. It’s still funny and his dealing with a heckler is perfectly within the spirit of the rest of his act. During his bit, Stuart Lee enters and walks past me. I’m tempted to try and shake his hand as well, so I have the full Fist of Fun package over my grubby mitts, but am not drunk enough this time so bottle it. He’s on next and does a great routine, fortunately with only a few bits I’d seen at Glastonbury. His slow, dry delivery is something to behold. There’s then another sketch troupe, whose name is something to do with albatrosses or summat. They do a couple of quite inspired bits, which it would have been nice to see more of. After the interval there is some full frontal male nudity from the same compere that got his cock out last time. I’m fortunate enough to find a pillar behind. I’ve emerged long enough to get a look at the woman on next flashing her tits, so it’s not all bad. She isn’t extremely amusing, generally coming out with some fairly uninspired filth, followed by an impression of what she doesn’t sound like cumming. The second Australian, she being the first (I think) is funnier, though I can’t off hand remember much of his act, or his name. I recall thinking some of it sounded like it was partly ripped off from Bill Hicks’ bit about flying, but the rest I laughed through. Finally there’s the first black comic I’ve seen all week, whose name I think was Matt Blaize, though I may have that wrong (it was nearly three in the morning! What do you want from me?). A lot of his stuff is actually very funny, though again, bits of it felt unhealthily reminiscent of other peoples work. We ad planned to stay up drinking then climb Arthur’s Seat to watch the sun come up, as we had a couple of years ago, but everyone is too tired so the idea is knocked on the head and we all head back to bed.
Friday – My birthday. Meh. It’s kept low key and, feeling lazy, I don’t leave the house until late afternoon. From there it’s on to see Boothby Graffoe, who performs his trademark mixture of comedy songs and stand up. It is all genuinely funny; the only problem I had was that I’d heard most of the material before on his last Radio 4 series. Still made me laugh though, just not as hard as I would if it had been new. Very good guest appearance by some violinist he knows too. After that it was on to the full show of Mikelangelo & The Black Sea Gentlemen. Thankfully we were some way back from the stage on this occasion, so no physical contact was made between me and any of the players. The group seemed slightly more restrained in their own venue (unwilling to break anything anyway), but still provided quite a spectacle. The music really does hold up and I can’t help but wonder when the next big Russian folk revival will happen. We must be due one soon. The late show of the evening was the near legendary Late & Live, which, after being herded like cattle for a while, we get into quite easily. Compere is some fluffy blonde kid, who is being heckled from the moment he arrives on the stage. He deals with it well and obviously has some talent, eventually getting one of the hecklers onto the stage where he remains for the whole of the nights proceedings. First guy on isn’t very good and quickly begins to die on his arse. His material has some funny lines, but not enough to placate a rowdy, drunken audience. Next is yet another bloke whose name has left my mind, though I do recall that he is of some sort of bizarre mixed lineage (Iranian and Jewish perhaps, but I can’t quite remember). He only ends up doing half a dozen lines of his own routine, instead spending most of his allotted minutes chatting to the man appointed as King of the Show who is still sitting on the stage. This is all highly amusing, if only for the fact that the former heckler seems to be coming out with all the best lines, impressing the comic and the crowd. I think Stephen K. Amos was on next, though I may have missed someone out. Do all black comedians have to do jokes about ‘the myth of the enormous penis’? It seems to more than a little hackneyed in my eyes, but every time they seem to trot it out. Is that racist? I hope not. Anyway, Amos has some really funny material, though the first half of the routine seems to be an amalgam of old stuff by Omid Djalili and Felix Dexter, playing the comedy foreigner. When he hits his stride though, laying into some members of the crowd for being too young to understand his early eighties references for example, he got a few belly laughs out of me. What better way to finish than some more Munnery though. In full Alan Parker stride, he manages to command the drunks far more convincingly than I thought he would manage. I’d never seen him heckled before and was worried that he’d lose the majority of the audience, but he dealt with it far better than I believed he could so nuff respect to the man. A couple of drinks after the show and then it’s back to beddy byes before the final day.
Friday – By this point I’ve realized how little money I have. Again, much of the day is spent in the house, not getting into town until early evening. This time it’s for the Umbilical Brothers – two more Australians putting on a show billed as ‘The Rehearsal’. This is a lot of fun, with them doing mainly physical comedy on the largest stage I’ve seen all week. They also have one or two gimmicks. One of these is a recurring plant in the audience, who turns up a couple of times. The other is some clever use of a large video screen at the back of the stage, so that one of them can appear huge and tower over the other. This leads inevitably into giant puppet bears who proceed to menace the actors, before taking over the whole show for its finale. The last show of the festival is ‘Not For The Easily Offended’, one of the shows Jerry Sadowitz is putting on this year. It is all that Sadowitz is supposed to be. Relentlessly offensive, bile fuelled, ranting from a man in a top hat. We end up trapped in the front row (we’d booked tickets in row B – there was no row A!), but thankfully there is no audience participation. It still means that some bile propelled sputum lands on my bare arm though. Some of the laughs are a little dubious; whether the audience are laughing at the preposterousness of Sadowitz’s character’s beliefs (which I think is the point) or agreeing with the foul invective he is screaming makes me wonder in hindsight. But at the time I just went with it and many laughs were to be had. The absence of magic was a little disappointing, but I think that was reserved for the other show. Then it’s back for an early night for the travel in the morning.
Christ knows what I’m going to write about tomorrow now. Here endeth the lesson.