Edinburgh Fringe comedy reviews: Robyn Reynolds: What Doesn't Kill You | Ian Smith: Foot Spa Half Empty + more

Assembly Roxy (Venue 139) until 24 August

As she came to realise after a particularly testing gig, Robyn Reynolds loves performing so much it's become another of her dysfunctional relationships. With tongue-in-cheek somewhat, she affects surprise that she's listed as “dark comedy” on the Fringe website, her instinctive self-effacement not even permitting her to claim that doubtful honour.

Born, raised and estranged in Gloucestershire, Reynolds resides in Melbourne now, with What Doesn't Kill You her first time doing stand-up in the UK, a triumphant return as it transpires.

From her chronic people pleasing to the specificities of her sexual preferences, Reynolds has been overwhelmingly shaped by her narcissistic mother, a chaotic alcoholic and recreational drug user who treated the diminutive comic as a skivvy, never affording her any opportunity to be the centre of attention, even inappropriately upstaging her at her 18th birthday party.

When the dreadful Janice emailed her daughter to tell her that she no longer wanted to be part of her life, it was clearly a blessing of sorts. But it left Reynolds to fall back on her least worst next option, flying to the other side of the world to reconnect with her Australian father. A thrice-divorced manchild with unresolved generational trauma and a string of intimidating girlfriends, the pair belatedly start to bond.

Yet Reynolds' most difficult relationship, with her body, was about to consume her existence, as a mystery illness saw her passed from medical professional to medical professional.

Which is a hell of a lot to unpack in an hour of stand-up. Yet the playful, outwardly ebullient Reynolds is a highly personable act who's overcome her inhibitions and finally learned to advocate for herself.

Moreover, she also crowns her bleakest and most psychologically troubling routines with some cracking songs in a musical theatre style. As introductory shows go, this is a belter.

Jay Richardson

Ian Smith: Foot Spa Half Empty ★★★★

Monkey Barrel (Venue 515) until 24 August

Good stand-ups will always find interesting ways to talk about starting a family. Some might spin insightful comedy gold out of the emotional process of deciding if and when to do it, or whether they’ve got or will ever find the right partner.

Ian Smith, however, spends a good chunk of his wonderful new hour frantically considering the logistics.

After treating us to entertaining material about his white supremacist namesake and how his newfound telly fame still pales into insignificance (“People also searched for Robert Mugabe”) as well as daft nuggets from his local paper, he takes us on a laugh-heavy fast-paced journey about fertility.

In Foot Spa Half Empty, Smith – who has perfected a rather startled tone of voice and speed of delivery, enhanced by some beautifully surprising punchlines – deploys his considerable comic talents to describe the awkwardness around providing a sperm sample.

A good chunk of it considers the challenge of getting the precious load to the clinic on time, rather than face the indignity of emitting on the premises.

He muses about the contents – and possible long-term effects – of a magic fertility spell he bought off Amazon, the opportunity to keep a visual medical record of his sperm, and conjures vivid images with tight phrases such as “keeping my testicles as cool as is socially acceptable”.

We’re also treated to the most extraordinary and memorable story about a gull outside a pub, with a gloriously off-kilter call-back ploy.

There’s plenty of social observational stuff (from Bruce Forsyth and skiing to extra-strong mints) which he elevates to fun new levels in this hour that absolutely whizzes by. Ian Smith’s at the top of his game.

Ashley Davies

Alfie Dundas: Untitled ★★★

Just the Tonic at The Mash House (Venue 288) until 24 August

Alfie Dundas has a couple of sizeable skeletons in his ancestral closet. And, indeed, dotted around Edinburgh.

Yet in this hugely promising, polished show he deftly negotiates the difficulty of trying to be progressive when your bloodline is anything but and your privilege casts you as a problem rather than the solution.

With a triple whammy of being posh, Catholic and with a geriatric father who's lighting up YouTube far more effectively than he's doing, Dundas may have lost his faith and be playing in a modest Fringe venue. Yet his cossetted start in life sticks hard to him.

And so, he's crafted abundant gags to channel his guilt, with smart observational material on the arrival of the new Pope and informed anecdotes about the Church that dig deeper than stock paedophile jibes.

There's also (slightly) more to his parental wealth than prejudice might imagine and he twists that virtue for everything with knowing mischief.

A passing resemblance affords him the chance to deconstruct Richard Curtis' writing with painstaking pedantry. And he's got amusing notions about the poisonous state of the online manosphere.

Playing “woke” games he contends, at the moment Dundas is boxing clever.

Jay Richardson

Anais Gralpois: American Fetish ★★★

Gilded Balloon Patter House (Venue 24) until 25 August

Stand-up's confessional potential is such that occasionally on the Fringe you're confronted with experiences so outside and beyond your own that they're a struggle to process.

Suffice to say that Anais Gralpois makes me feel fogeyish and rather vanilla in the stability of my long-term relationship. Is this what 20-somethings are up to these days? It all sounds physically and emotionally exhausting.

A Seattle native of French heritage, Gralpois was drawn to this country by Regency fantasies of Jane Austen and Bridgerton, enrolling in drama school. But it's the drama of her dating life that's front and centre here. In teasing, upfront language she recounts how her potent sexuality, easy virtue and an accent that's bizarrely mistaken for Californian has been catnip for rich London City boys and how she's responded in kind.

At her most confident with the thrill of the fleeting encounter, things have got a bit messier when she's embarked upon extended, ill-defined trysts, where the sense of who's using who becomes less clear cut.

Abruptly veering into and out of abuse and even serial killer fantasy, Gralpois' show gets progressively darker. Yet the self-identifying “slut” is an ebullient charmer for most of her hour, engaging with her bold disclosure.

Jay Richardson

Couplet: Honey Honey Moon Moon ★★★

Assembly Rooms (Venue 20) until 24 August

Don't call Marnina Schon and Micah O'Konis cute or adorable, despite the musical comedy duo incorporating their Fringe debut into their honeymoon. For it's the trials and tribulations of their wedding preparations that provides the narrative throughline to this introduction to a delightfully congenial act.

As a queer Jewish couple from Los Angeles, with guitarist and instinctive optimist O'Konis using the pronouns they/them and violinist and natural pessimist Schon using she/they, there's a lot of identity baggage for the show to grapple with, even without factoring in how often they're mistaken for siblings.

Yet in their opening number and another cracking song, People Think We're Straight, they concisely and tunefully explain where they're coming from, as well as the implications of such intersectionality for their nuptials.

Though musically harmonious, the cracks in their relationship are great comedic fodder. And arguably Couplet's most memorable song, a tribute to the couples counsellor who brought them back together through their shared loathing for her, sets them on a path towards a happy ending against the odds.

With a folksy sound and stage musical ear for pithy lyrics, the pair seldom scale the heights of peak hilarity but consistently entertain and are fond, endearing company.

Jay Richardson

Topical Comedian - Definitely Maybe ★

PBH's Free Fringe @ Southsider (Venue 148) until 24 August

This is neither topical nor comedy. It is a bloke in a rather fabulous suit reading from notes, which he claims are necessary because his material is so topical some of it was written just as we were coming in.

Given that he spends the first eight minutes talking us through practically the entire tournament before the Lionesses win, then gabbles through the late Pope and Liz Truss, Kneecap, Jeremy Clarkson's TB riddled cow and Blue Peter, I am struggling to find it.

He does, like every other comic in the city, mention Oasis. Whatever…

Kate Copstick

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