American post-Trump Comedy? Glasgow International Comedy Festival

Glasgow International Comedy Festival Review

Greg Proops, Cottiers Theatre, Glasgow. March 15 2017
Rich Hall, Garage, Glasgow. March 18 2017.

Glasgow International Comedy Festival rumbles along again. There is never any feeling of a "festival" going on with venues and acts scattered across the city, there is no hub or buzz about it. The Aye Write book festival is on at the same time, but centred at the Mitchell Library, when you are there you feel there is something happening. Despite that the comedy festival brings an impressive line up of acts each year, if you can stumble upon them. With the incomprehensible mess that is American President Trump, I decided to seek out a couple of American comedians to see if they could find humour in their situation. 

Greg Proops came to the attention of British audiences as a regular guest on the improvisation show Whose Line Is It Anyway? My kids know him as their least liked character in the whole Star Wars saga, Fode, a two-headed Troig ("I don't care what universe you're from, that's gotta hurt.") He now regularly records a popular podcast, which he recorded on the second of his two nights at Cottiers Theatre. His show was a game of two halves. The first half he appeared rather deflated, rattled off a few jokes about his previous times in Scotland. From brutal haircuts, mocking our tablet and Irn Bru, and the idea of having a whisky and cola, to the pointlessness of a Ferris wheel in George Square. But his concentration wandered; some stories were forgotten and punchlines were told back to front. The second half he came out with more energy, either because he started by ranting about the America's moronic president, or because he had a vodka and ice at hand. His exuberant faith in the abilities of Hillary Clinton, may have raised a few sceptical eyebrows, but it was women in general who he felt should be running the world. I'm not sure that out-of-towners get that saying Nicola Sturgeon seems to be doing a good job will cause most audiences to immediately split down the middle.

Rich Hall made a similar comment vaguely supportive of Nicola Sturgeon's competency, and similarly got as many boos as cheers. I think it is a topic that requires a more nuanced approach to carry the whole audience with you. He gave us an hour of gags and stories, before coming back on stage with his band to give us a musical second half. His tales of his previous dealings in Scotland seemed a bit warmer and a bit more up to date, his anger at Donald Trump and his electorate a bit more visceral and a bit less despondent. As he said, the problem doing comedy about Trump is that three days later, his actions in the real world will be madder than any comedic invention. For his musical entertainment he battered out a series of songs about audience members he had been dealing with in the first half, quickly rattling off rhymes with their jobs and even a cheery ditty about Larkhall. He clearly has spent far too much time in small towns around Scotland as he managed to work Glenrothes, Hawick and Eccclefechan into his songs. His world-weary face brightened up when people requested a rendition of his Border Collie Song that he had created whilst filming a BBC4 documentary on country music, that had been on TV the night before (still available on BBC iPlayer until end of April).

Reeves & Mortimer. 25 Years of the Poignant Moments Tour

Reeves & Mortimer. 25 Years of the Poignant Moments Tour - Clyde Auditorium, Glasgow. 29 November 2016. Live review

I had originally expected to see Vic and Bob bring their silver jubilee tour to Glasgow 12 months ago, but the tour was cancelled when Bob Mortimer required emergency heart surgery just before the tour headed out on the road. Looking slimmer and fitter, they managed to keep their Glasgow date a year late. This gives me an excuse to recall the time a group of friends bumped into Vic Reeves in a bar in Glasgow about 20 years ago. A woman I worked with must have totally bamboozled him by telling him "You're no Jim Reeves, my mum has all his records and he died in a plane crash". 

It is 25 years (well 26 years now I suppose) since Vic Reeves Big Night Out started on Channel 4, bringing Vic and Bob to the nations attention and several other shows followed, including leftfield quiz show Shooting Stars. Their stage show isn't rammed with new material, except for the prolonged improvised sections which must change night to night, but is a nostalgic re-visiting of many of their characters from those shows. The characters they played out were always out-of-time so haven't dated, absurd versions of 1970s television staples from folk singers to talent shows and Crown Court.

The stage features nothing more than a couple of chairs and a desk. Whilst the pair change costume brief sketches are projected onto a large screen at the back of the stage, such as adverts for "Geordie Jeans, so tight you can almost see your bowel movements". The audience was a mix of complete uber-fans who whoop along as they recognise every gag and song, those mildly tickled by the surreal nonsense evolving on stage and lanky teens brought along to observe their parents adulation of Vic and Bob's act.

Vic and Bob on stage at the Armadillo, Glasgow

In a two hour show few old characters are omitted. The Man With The Stick, complete with paper helmet, Graham Lister appearing on Novelty Island talent show, Davey and Donald Stott, Mulligan and O'Hare and Judge Nutmeg. Catchphrases zip about and pan pipes of shoes, blows from mighty frying pans and thigh rubbing all feature as you would hope. Listing what is in the show, now of it makes any sense, but that really is the whole point, their enthusiastic acceptance that everything they are saying and doing is perfectly logical bowls you along. Some characters, such as Dr Shakamoto's funny foreigner who can't say English words properly, maybe are past their best. Others, such as the Terry Gilliam-esque naked, flying Henry VIII should be given their own series.

A fabulous evening. Worth seeing just to see lard shoved through the nostrils of a photo of Benadict Cumberbatch and to be in the presence of the "dove from above". Here's to another 25 years of stuff from the surrealist's edition of Eric and Ernie.

Edinburgh. This Looks A Bit Like Alexei Sayle

Banksy: The Room In The Elephant. Pleasance Courtyard

Edinburgh Art Festival

Alexei Sayle. The Stand Comedy Club

Marcus Brigstoke, "Je m'accuse - I am Marcus". Assembly Hall

Brief reviews from my second trip through from Glasgow to the Edinburgh Fringe this year. I wanted to see some comedians this time, but as they don't wake up until the afternoon there was time to squeeze in some other stuff first.

We started off by going to see the exhibition on Mary, Queen of Scots at the National Museum of Scotland. It is an absolutely fascinating collection of stuff and the story of her life reads like a ludicrous Hollywood plot. I know the history of a nation is not the same as the history of its kings and queens but it is a story worth hearing. I've been inspired to try to find out more as it is a period of European history that ties me in knots. John Knox seems to have been a constant thorn in her side. As well as her Catholicism he wasn't big on female monarchs either apparently. A proper ray of sunshine he seems to have been.

Whilst promoting his film "Exit Through The Gift Shop" in LA in 2011, graffiti artist Banksy got chatting to a homeless man who had been living in a disused water tank. With his permission wrote "This looks a bit like an elephant" on the side of it. Cue rapacious grasping for ownership of a Banksy work (which the artist refused to authenticate) and Tachowa Covington was made homeless. Here Gary Beadle off of Eastenders plays the man who had made his home in the tank for the 7 years before meeting Banksy (as Titus Coventry here). The story asked lots of questions about what makes art 'art' without really giving any answers. Gary Beadle's was a gripping one-man turn, as he debated issues with the toy rat he had for company (a recurring Banksy motif) and Bristolian music from Portishead and Massive Attack occasionally broke in. However in a surreal twist at the end we were introduced to the man himself, Tachowa Covington. He is over from LA and saw the show for the first time himself today. A lovely twist that slaps you in the face with the fact that this is a real life being recounted. The man himself had dressed up in a purple kilt and a fedora to mark the occasion. You can only hope that he manages to get some personal benefit from the play, to help him get what he wants in life. Shame we never got to hear his thoughts on it and I hope some journalists are all over him tonight to hear his tale.

After that we had time to dash about some of the exhibitions which are part of the Edinburgh Art Festival. One of the best is in the ever-reliable Fruitmarket Gallery where there is an exhibition of paintings, photography and sculpture by Gabriel Orozco, Thinking In Circles, in which the geometric motif is played out in a variety of ways. The centrepiece is a painting called The Eye of Go. This I liked as I have read a couple of Japanese novels and a manga which feature the game of Go, played with black and white discs. GO is also the artist's initials and a verb which opens up a variety of meanings. (D'you see what he's did there?). If you look at them long enough you start to see Mickey Mouse too.

The Eye of Go, Gabriel Orozco

There has been a lot of love for the Peter Doig exhibition on at the Scottish National Gallery, No Foreign Lands. The Scottish-born artist, little known in his own country, has lived extensively in Trinidad and this exhibition features works painted over the past 13 years since he returned there. The scale and vibrancy of the paintings is more remarkable in the flesh than in any of the reproductions of his paintings which I had seen in the papers before I went along to see it. Often there is a sun-bleached, dreamy quality to them. I liked the colour and composition whilst my wife was unimpressed with his draughtsmanship. Then again I quite like the primitive works of French painter 'Douanier' Rousseau whilst she hates them.

Keeping the Mary Queen of Scots theme going we had time to have a quick pint in the Queens Arms before wandering on via the Open Eye Gallery who have a interesting show of Alberto Morrocco's early works and sketches on show. I'm personally not a big fan of a lot of his later work but his skill shone through in these. I particularly liked the pen and ink sketch of a drunk man falling asleep on the train. Around the corner in the National Portrait Gallery on Queen Street, there is a temporary exhibition of new work by someone else who can definitely draw. Ken Currie's work is painterly, skillful and full of atmosphere. To be honest seeing these made me re-appraise my opinion of Peter Doig's stuff we'd seen earlier as these paintings had so much more to them on many levels.

John Knox scowls at Mary Queen of Scots in the Portrait Gallery

Running upstairs past the mural featuring Mary, Queen of Scots (once you start noticing her she's everywhere) we went to see the Man Ray photographs, a fascinating collection of people captured by his camera. The Fleece to Fibre exhibition in Dovecote Galleries is worth looking in at, if for nothing more than the spectacular photograph portraits of the sheep. I also liked Rachel MacLean's slightly mental exhibition on at Edinburgh Printmakers, I Heart Scotland. A bizarre spectacle, as if the souvenirs from a tacky tourist shop have come alive in her photomontages but done with a great sense of humour. Her Lion and the Unicorn film maybe shows where the independence debate should be going instead of the current petty sniping we have to endure.

Alexei Sayle doesn't stand still when doing stand up

So as the galleries closed their doors it was obvious that the comedians were waking up. We had passed Jerry Sadowitz, Tim Vine and John Lloyd in the streets but we weren't here for them. Alexei Sayle is a comedy legend as far as I'm concerned. He first entered my consciousness as the shouty, angry landlord and various random, mental members of the Balowskis family in the Young Ones TV show, before going on to have his own TV series of monologues and rants. One time member of the Communist Party, actor in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and if you haven't read any of his novels then you are missing a treat. I shouldn't forget "Hello John, Got a New Motor" either as it appears to be one thing he reports that people still expect him to do. As the original compere of the London Comedy Store he was present at the birth of "alternative comedy" but hasn't done stand up himself for about 16 years. As you'd hope, he is a bit vitriolic about the current banal level of observational comedy and also pillories the current upper class stranglehold of media, the arts and government. Apart from the fact that he had something to say, he was also laugh out loud funny whilst saying it.

We were given a free firework display from the Tattoo whilst we waited to get into the Assembly Halls on the Mound, where we were greeted by a statue of John Knox as we made our way in, snarling over the temporary bar set up here. Is it the piece which he wrote called "The First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regiment of Women" that they commemorate here with this statue or some other achievement of his?

Marcus Brigstocke is the omnipresent voice of liberal ire on Radio 4 comedy programming at present. He seems to have had a couple of shows on in Edinburgh this year, and 2 days into a three week run here he tells us that he tore his achilles whilst jiggling about on stage. He has soldiered on and starts by saying he'd decided not to do any political stuff this year. So instead we got rather banal observational stuff. His tales of his boarding school and the scary working class people he met on the oil rigs felt a bit hollow after Alexei's sharper stuff earlier. I like Marcus Brigstocke and he seems a very nice chap. However I recognise the childhood world with the local Communist Party branch having meetings in your front room and eating all your biscuits more than I recognise the traumas of being a fat boy in boarding school.

Maybe by this time I'd had enough of the tipsy Edinburgh rugger types pushing into the queues or the plummy Morningside diners vacuous conversations at the table beside us for dinner ("But we're just not rich enough to pay the Gift Aid prices, are we dear?"). Time for the midnight train home to Glasgow where people either re-enacted Morocco's head-nodding drunken nap or blethered aimlessly to strangers.

I have only really started in the past couple of years making the effort to head east along the M8 for the festival. Obviously it is a hugely successful enterprise for the city, but I just wish they would make it feel a bit more inclusive. I know that in recent years they have consciously targeted those living in Glasgow's G12 area for ticket sales. I just wish that they'd make a bit more effort to attract those living in G15 and G34 as well. I like Edinburgh, but you can have it back now that the Fringe and Festivals are coming to an end.

Serial Killers and Mad Doctors

Driving Manuel, at Oran Mor by Denise Mina

Harry Hill, Sausage Time, King's Theatre, Glasgow

Just a quick review of two shows that I've been to this week in Glasgow which maybe highlights the rather random and scatter gun way that I decide what to go and see.

I often end up going to Oran Mor for a lunchtime "Play, a Pie and a Pint" on my day off from work and one of the best plays that I've seen there was by author Denise Mina ("A Drunk Woman Looks At The Thistle"). Also, you've got to acknowledge that she is a person with some taste, making one of the characters in the book Garnethill a Partick Thistle fan (although if memory serves he didn't survive until the end).

I think if she were writing that book today though, after we've just stuffed Livingston FC 6-1, she would have to change a couple of lines from this paragraph. "Partick Thistle FC, known as The Jags, is one of the few Glasgow football teams not associated with either side of the Protestant/Catholic sectarian divide. Their fans are known locally for their passive but exceptional eccentricity and the team are known nationally for being crap". I digress.

Denise Mina had another play on this week, Driving Manuel. The play centres on the true story of Peter Manuel, a serial killer in Glasgow of the 1950's and his bizarre meeting one evening with a relative of three of his victims, William Watt, who the Police of the day believed was responsible for the crimes. It is an intriguing story but it seemed mis-cast with Andy Gray as the malevolent killer, more famed for his hammy comedy acting. At times lines were played for laughs, whilst we were at other times presented with the horrific violence of his crimes. The mood was therefore rather uneven and it felt more like a work in progress that the finished article.

The Glasgow Comedy Festival is in town just now, so when we had the chance of a baby-sitter on Friday night it was a case of seeing who was performing that evening and giving it a go. This had the added bonus of us not having to endure the pain of watching the Scotland team in action against Wales. We plumped for Harry Hill off of the telly, touring just now with his new live show, Sausage Time. I have to say there weren't many belly laughs, but it was spectacularly bonkers in the best traditions of meaningless nonsense such as Vic and Bob and the like specialise in. How exactly do you start off training to be a doctor then end up trying to play James Bond tunes on a trombone, drinking a bucket of water whilst bouncing up and down in a paddling pool? You do feel for the poor souls dragged on stage for these things, who are on a hiding to nothing, but when one of them is a scientist who works on kitchen sinks it almost sounds as if he was a planted Harry Hill character.

As it turns out we made the right choice for our evening's entertainment with Scotland losing 1-2 in the end. That, at least, was predictable.