Edinburgh Fringe Comedy reviews: Thor Stenhaug | Ada and Bron | Ted Milligan | Disabled Cants
A Norwegian comedy god of thunder has a storming debut while a real comedy couple pull off a show about love that’s both silly and sexy find our critics in their latest Fringe round-up
Thor Stenhaug: One Night Stand Baby
Pleasance Courtyard (Venue 33)
★★★★☆
Over and above his god-of-thunder name, Thor Stenhaug has been dealt some unlikely cards in life that serve him well in comedy. A small town Norwegian who's achieved his adolescent, sitcom-inspired dream to live and date in London, the stand-up's nationality continues to be a source of fascination and culture clash quirkiness for everyone, the less-than-seductive tone of his accent contrasted with that of his French flatmate's. More poignantly, he's also the product of an unconventional upbringing, specifically from a one-night stand, his parents perfect strangers tied only by him. An accomplished anecdotalist, Stenhaug mines his circumstances skilfully for an endearing tale that's built on the solid framework of strong observational gags and rich personal disclosure.
Other comics might linger longer in the darkness of his escape from mooted abortion, his mother's serious health scare and the unconventional means by which, as a child, he was ferried between his progenitors by others. Yet beyond even stereotypical Scandinavian liberalism and his mother's inclination towards finding silver linings, the boyish, almost perma-smiling comic has an irrepressible sunniness, eliciting big laughs for his carefully apportioned bleakness, before moving on at an appealing clip through his fulsome tale.
Chiefly, he contrasts his situation with that of his posh, religiously raised girlfriend from a big British family, her father's gentle probing of his background providing some mild narrative jeopardy. Stenhaug's lineage is more spotted even than his conception. And he has more reason than most to hail the invention of contraception, his self-deprecation strong even if his affection for his relatives is palpable. Although his initial struggles with the English language and habits inspire a big chunk of his material, they belie his sophisticated eye for their inconsistencies. The Norwegian deserves his sentimental ending for this storming debut.
Jay Richardson
until 24 August
Ada and Bron: The Origin of Love
Pleasance Courtyard (Venue 33)
★★★★☆
Silly and sexy is a fiendishly difficult combination to pull off. Yet character comics and real-life couple Ada Player and Bron Waugh accomplish it, bringing gorgeous chemistry, total commitment and delightfully inventive playfulness to the rich confection of their late-night Fringe debut. With epic pretensions, their showcase of eight or so pairings overflow with dysfunction and romantic earnestness, opening with the destabilising vision of Aristophanes' rending of soulmates, horrifying white amorphous blobs clutching and clawing through their sheeted bodies.
Thereafter, though, Player and Waugh prance about in their underwear, whipping costumes on and off with carefree abandon. The naughtiness of a 1970s suburban affair groans with illicit randiness and bourgeois self-satisfaction, with Waugh the excited husband and Player farcically alternating between his dutiful wife and commanding mistress, all to the jazzy accompaniment of Ed Lyness on keyboard, ever-present and gently smirking throughout the hour.
Elsewhere, there are some adorably twee munchkins; supernatural beings united in unnatural congress and confused pillow talk; and adolescents fumbling towards their first kiss, unsure if they're transmitting their racing inner thoughts out loud. A standout skit features an elderly woman and a sex robot, with Waugh impassively compliant, Player wild-eyed with resurgent geriatric lust, a spark of something more than AI between them. Another is the overwrought, star-crossed lovers strung out on a rock 'n' roll journey over decades, their devotion hinging on defecation, epitomising the messy, visceral, transgressive quality of much of Ada and Bron's work.
There are some lost, lonely, individual souls. Waugh plays a disturbed incel with relish; Player is that violent dinosaur James Bond, killing anything he might love, as well as a sad, spurned young woman, heartbreaking in her self-effacement. He's highly watchable and versatile. She's a future star, recalling Caroline Aherne, Tracey Ullman or Morwenna Banks' most memorably girlish turns.
Jay Richardson
until 24 August
Ted Milligan: United
Pleasance Courtyard (Venue 33)
★★★☆☆
As Ted Milligan stresses, you don't need to be a football fan to appreciate his affectionate homage to the beautiful game. As a character comedy showcase, it's a fantastic calling card for the Plymouth Argyle supporter's skill in embodying a broad variety of eccentric creations and it rattles along with the adrenaline of an end-to-end derby, with the young playmaker putting in a real shift if you'll pardon the parlance. Those who do love the sport though will appreciate his attention to detail and the many knowing winks and nods for the terrace faithful.
Set at the fictional Crubchester United F.C., your stereotypical mismanaged lower league outfit, the hour unfolds like a fly-on-the-wall streaming documentary, with Milligan switching between portraying players, the board and the diehard followers of the team. Despite some initial wobbles and the fatalist attitude of their club captain, Crubchester find some form and ascend the division, their new star Italian striker powering them towards play-off contention. Dense with gags and wordplay, especially effective in skewering football's commercial rapacity through a memorably old school club CEO, the only sizeable criticism is that United doesn't go far enough in departing from the game's abundant clichés, with the team's touchy-feely German manager almost indistinguishable from the real Jürgen Klopp.
Jay Richardson
until 24 August
Disabled Cants
Bar 50 (V151)
★★☆☆☆
Benny Shakes is the slightly wobbly but loveable BFG that holds this show together. The bill changes constantly and today's performers come bearing a selection of acronymic diagnoses and range, in no particular order, from bewilderingly bad, through so-so to great delivery/no material. But Benny wraps them all in his warmth. It is a tribute to him that the gig has such a fun vibe. Finally we get local lad Gerard Murphy who is terrific: dark and personal, with a charismatic delivery. Very funny. Comedy? He might be disabled, but he can.
KATE COPSTICK
until 24 August
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