MARCEL LUCONT

The Stand Comedy Club, Edinburgh

26th October

Marcel-Lucont[1]

As the lights dim and the music cuts, and the candles flicker amidst stifled giggles and a drum roll, bare feet emerge from a smooth, sultry velvet suit and slip ostentatiously into the spotlight. A seductive glass of red wine polishes a clichéd French alter ego, as this deliciously obnoxious but seductively smooth persona, moulds an evening of hilarious philosophical flair.

Marcel Lucont enjoys contrasting the parody and crassness of the British with the eloquence of their sophisticated French cousins amidst a delivery knotted in soft, dry charisma and sharp-witted observations. His jokes are well structured and intelligently formed, and his delivery is impeccable. The soft eloquence of his monotone insults roll steadily with expert timing and confident pause, to allow the audience time to erupt before dropping another quick-witted, cynical consideration.

Hilarious observations ‘You rarely meet a gay fascist’ pucker his monologue before he delves headfirst into a sharp assassination of Calvinistic and depressing Scottish conditioning, his disgust of festivals, children and monogamy and a whole array of his personal distastes and dismays, all of course delivered with an air of French superiority. ‘Do you like cake? Yes, sure, like cake, same cake til you die..?!’ One online feminist regrettably took umbrage at his sexism and shameful ‘plugging’ of his (ficticious) autobiography Moi giving credit to his expert and sophisticated ability to immerse himself fully within his outrageous clichéd alter ego.
He peppers his set with colourful and interesting use of projector, narrates outrageously funny, and well composed poetry, and concludes the first part of his show in euphoric, lyrically flared song, keeping his set entertaining and punctuated. Overall his set is impeccably well constructed and intelligently delivered, giving justification for his recent flood of acclaimed awards. A Smooth and delicious French martini of a poet, comedian and philosopher… FOUR STARS

four stars

Reviewer : Teri Welsh

Beehive Comedy Club

The Beehive Comedy Club

The Beehive Inn, Ediburgh

Friday 24th / Saturday 25th October

As previously reported in ‘The Mumble’ the Beehive Comedy Club is housed in an upstairs room in the Beehive Inn in the Grassmarket. An intimate venue with roughly 50 seats available, last night about 46 of these were filled as the five comedians, plus compere, played to a small audience but one that constituted a near full house. First up was the Compere Rick Molland who has an easy confident syle and is genuinely funny in unexpected situations. The way he dealt with (and used to his advantage) the fact that there was a party from the Cayman Islands in the audience was hilarious. I also enjoyed his intro to act 2 when he did a ‘what was your worst ever job’ routine with the audience. The main diet for the night introduced by Rick was split into 3 sections: (i) A young Glaswegian comic, (ii) three new comics all doing short inputs and (iii) the headliner.
The young Glaswegian was Jamie Dalgleish who made much of his Easterhouse upbringing and his observational delivery of being young in a big working class housing scheme in Glasgow brought him many laughs and some genuine empathy from the audience. I particularly liked his gag about how you can tell the social standing of an area by the months that the ice cream vans come round – in Easterhouse the vans are plying their trade in coldest December.
The middle section was very interesting. Chris Griffin (who doubled as the doorman) made much about the perils of being short and sweating a lot. A very young Scott Laird told us of life as college student in Lanarkshire. A good line about applying for a student discount in a lapdancing club by using his Young Scot Discount card. The third of the new comics was Gareth Mutch and he was my favourite. A slightly rotund 20 year old with a disarmingly gravelly voice that he used to great effect. The other comedians on the night commendably tried to engage the audience with spontaneous responses to stuff that was going on in the seats. This of course can be a bit hit-or-miss as you deviate away from your prepared material. Gareth stuck to his script and his 10 minute input was all the better for it. Some great gags, very very good timing and some wonderful facial expressions.
The headliner Gus Lymburn was by far the most energetic of the comedians and was able to capitalise on the fact that by the time he came on the drink had flowed. He was by far the most spontaneous and encouraged heckling and other forms of audience participation. A genuinely funny and engaging guy Gus works well with and without a script. He finished by asking for feedback and was delighted when one lady in the audience from Perthshire announced that this was ‘better than Aberfeldy’. I have a feeling that this ‘recommendation’ might find its way onto the publicity material for the Beehive Comedy Club !
Reviewer : Chris Donkin
 

The Thursday/Saturday Show

THE STAND

Edinburgh

Thursday 23rd & Saturday 25th October

£15

485ab56e-7b3f-4d15-b41f-faf89ef444cf

Four Acts in 2 Hours:   It all starts with the compare Bruce Devlin. A Funny Furry Poof with a fast , hard hitting audience intervention.  Direct and personal he delivers with a blow…  On came Chris Conroy…..   A 20 minute set off fun with a personal take on life as we know it.  A slower pace than Bruce allowed the audience to relax and slowly came to terms off what was going to be an interesting night of comedy….   Next up was Larah Boss, a female Canadian that was due to give birth, but hopefully not during the show…  She delivered a good set off Scottish language comedy, allowing the audience to reflect what our language can really be about. Like a roller coaster ride  from, Kwik Fit Fitters to the child birth, she delivered a funny and consistent set….

After another a Bruce Devlin take on Life the next act Matt Green was on….  I Comedian that makes you laugh just by walking on stage.  If appearances are everything then this guy looks like a teenager in a mans body, are maybe it was just the suit….  Very funny and full of wit, Matt is a true diamond in the rough, one to watch out for..  Then came the headliner: Mick Ferry, the Bryan Ferry of Comedy. A smooth, silky and fast moving take on life and how he fits into it all. He”s a comedian that can look at his self and laugh. Forget about how he looks,  his comedy kept the audience in stitches ,  delivered with a well written and thought out set, Mick is a headliner that never fails to please the audience.   All round a great night packed with some off the finest comedy talent this side of Edinburgh (that’s the East End of Edinburgh)..    Bruce closed the nite with more of his wee dirty camp jokes. One of the best compares I have seen. Well done Bruce!!!!!!

Beehive Comedy Club

logo

Saturday 18th October 2014

Beehive Inn, Edinburgh

10734266_1013387358687290_3621705440346641730_n

Last night saw the first occasion The Mumble had gone down to the regular weekend giggle-fest that is the Beehive Comedy Club. It lives in an upstairs room of the catacombesque Beehive Inn, on the Grassmarket, & offers the same line-up each Friday & Saturday nights, though differing, of course, week-by-week. The regular feature is the compere, the inimitable Rick Molland who commands & warms the room with an unpretentious confidence that really eases the audience into a mind ready to laugh. During his amiable sweep around the room checking out his punters, he asked me what i did & responded by saying I was reviewing him. This usually stalls a comedian, who swiftly move son & leaves me alone. Instead, Rick pounced like an irate, hungry tiger & showed me up a right treat from then on!

The Beehive Comedy Club is split into three acts, the first of which tonight was played out by a cuddly Glaswegian singer of very funny, quite deadpan & occasionally butt-squirming ballads called Harry Garrison. One of the songs was about unrequited love, & how he tied her to a bike under his stairs, while the best was a quality ditty called Evil badger. The heart of the evening was given to two up & coming comedians, who both had ten minutes to strut their stuff. First up was John Miller – a cross between Chris Evans & Penfold – who offered up some witty observations of a man climbing from the working classes into the middle… i.e. he now leaves a 20p piece in a public toilet basin if it falls in. Next up was the self-confessed ‘androgenous wind-chime,’ Robin Grainger, whose madcap manic mind is actually full of really funny anecdotes.

The headline act was the hurricane-style force of comic nature that is Jellybean Martinez. Camp, sweary, & funny as, he seemed to have observed every bit of chit-chat that had gone on through the night between Rick Molland & the audience, & wove it all together on the spot in a celebration of high-octane comedy. He was suddenly on first name terms with the cute hen party from Lancashire, & the middle-aged American couple in Edinburgh with their 20-year old daughter. He even chucked me a bag of jellybeans in order to get a good review – but he didnt need to do that, I was hooked from the first second & the sheer energy of the guy is a joy to behold. A great way to finish a great night & if all the Beehive nights are like this, the club should run & run.

Tony Law: Enter the Tone Zone

The Stand Comedy Club

Edinburgh

Tuesday October 14th

tony-law-big[1]

Tony Law bounds onstage, brandishing a trumpet wildly, his thinning black leotard festooned with assorted tat. There’s no support act: he doesn’t need one, two thirds of the audience are avid fans, and the rest are swept along by his manic energy. Law carries himself like a merrily deranged tramp who’s mistaken the bottle-bank for a cocktail lounge, and you -the terrified stranger he’s trapped into conversation- for his bosom chum.  “It’s YOU!” Law cries delightedly at folk in the audience, remembering times they’ve shared “way back” getting high at the gates of Troy, or crusading about the Middle-Ages together. He ricochets between funny voices -which often argue between themselves- and fellates the microphone, making it honk like a fog-horn. We’re all laughing, but I’m not sure what at, really. “I don’t know why either,” shrugs Law, seconds later, as if in response. That gets a big laugh too.

            Maybe it’s the relief. He’s no “worthy” comic come to lecture us. Law does skits on those current affairs conversations where you realise you know nothing, nothing, and can only desperately agree, hoping no-one notices: “Ya ya me too” he booms like a caveman, one we would feel safe going for a pint with. Many jokes seem geared specifically towards exhausted young parents. An Octonauts reference goes down well, as does an attack on businessmen who get annoyed about young children on trains. Some bits seem more suited to the toddlers themselves, a bemused but willing audience member is pulled onstage to toss a beach ball to and fro with Tony, whose facial expressions throughout would delight any pre-verbal child, but fall a little flat for even some of the diehard fans. It goes on, and on. “It gets funny again after fifteen minutes,” Law assures us, but fortunately doesn’t attempt to prove it.

 

Pleasingly, Law isn’t wildly enthusiastic about his wildly enthusiastic fans, you can’t imagine him coaxing young sycophants into the toilets after the show with a bag of cocaine and the promise of reflected glory. He actually heckles an audience member for laughing excessively. She loves it, and loves him regardless, shouting “we still love you, Tone Zone” moments later when he inadvertently snags a rubber snake on the lighting rig.

             Because Tony Law is as likable as he is strange, no one minds when he chuckles to himself at aborted jokes, then doesn’t share them; or performs five minutes of his act to the back wall, leaving us nothing to stare at but his lycra-clad bottom; or does throwbacks to material from old shows. Everyone loves it. Everyone but Tone Zone. A lot of his act consists of apologising for the rest of it, he grimaces at his own jokes, breaks off for yogic breathing and makes repeated references to mental breakdown which -amid the laughs- illicit noises of genuine concern. Ultimately, looking for the method in the madness may just be another type of madness. If you like being bemused as much as amused, you’ll love your time in the Tone Zone, and the die-hard fans never want to leave it. Tony Law is a flawed, but thoroughly engaging dude. FOUR STARS

four stars

Reviewer : Katie Craig