With a mere three days until the Edinburgh Comedy Awards panel, now under the auspices of Absolute Radio, announces its shortlists, I thought I'd take on three newcomers I saw this year who might threaten to make it.
From 40000 people in stadiums to radio 4, fatherhood and the Pleasance attic in the blink of an eye, Doc Brown certainly has a tale to tell. As a rapper touring with Mark Ronson, he shared stages with Amy Winehouse and Lily Allen, and substance abuse with many more. He enters to a pounding beat and raps with all the arrogant strutting of the genre only for the chorus to change in tone from demand to desperate plea, Look at me, Look at me, Look at me. Starting full of obnoxious self-importance, his voice changes to one of familiar vulnerability.As this opening shows, his mega star accessories might be painfully, plasticatedly fake, but his talent is very real. His transformation from attention seeking kid to british rap's next big thing,before descending into nothingness and resentment and experiencing a moment of self-realisation on a bus provides a funny and interesting show.
He is unafraid to get right up close to his small audience in one of the Fringe's smallest venues, and brazenly challenges the entire audience to a rap battle. While Doc Brown deserves praise for mixing the rap comedy angle with a genuine finger on the pulse of a radio 4 middle class funny bone- a star turn is a rap about his beloved over-head projector- and simply for being a witty, likeable guy; this show is more than that. The laughter is not exactly overwhelming, or uproarious, but the backdrop is a disarmingly and endearingly honest story. You won't hear many clearer narratives, with anything like so pleasingly frank and personal conclusion. The story of hip-hop's peaks and troughs should be told by more guys like this.
More esoteric, and even slightly unfathomable, is John Luke-Roberts. Formerly of cult sketch troupe Behemoth, this young and very odd comic appears as a stand up and serial killer- who ineptly attempts do distract his audience from an increasingly brutal murder he's committing offstage- with several different formats, lots of jokes, and one very odd costume change. He has lost his double act partner, who nevertheless has a star turn recorded on video, and seems a little uncomfortable filling the time on his own. An original take on the "insult the audience" genre of rapport-building, where he reads an insult off a pre-prepared card to each member of the audience in turn, showcases his inventive and disconcerting joke-writing style. However the good idea, the undoubtedly sinister character he creates, and his expert gags are not pulled together well enough to form a proper show. Interludes where he reads anecdotes, often including a murder, while sitting in an armchair jar against the tone, and unnecessarily slow the tempo. The murder, one of the better premises for a show i've heard, soon descends into undiluted gimmickry with clunky choreography. The "big finale" is almost cringeworthily unfunny. However John Luke-Roberts has tried something genuinely new, much more than can be said for your average edinburgh debutant, and only just been found wanting. In the case of this next performer, I was found wanting only more. (Segue. Nice.)
Bo Burnham's disconceringly sexual songs earned him millions of hits on youtube, a judd apatow movie role and script commission, and a sold-out tour across the states. His show, Words Words Words, should earn him a lot more. From his tauntingly silent entrance, tearing newspaper behind the microphone, to his storming exit, he holds the audience's eye in a way that is almost eerie. He seeks constantly to trick, mislead and confuse the punters, creating the ideal impression of a comic who is trying his best to alienate you and failing miserably. His jokes are simply stunning (he has expressed frustration with reviewers being unable to contain their enthusiasm and quoting the whole show). I sympathise, since almost every joke in his show would be the soaring highlight of any other. Time and again he tells us not to clap his gags and songs, but by the end of the show he's given up because it's useless. He continually insists that what he's about to do isn't meant to be funny, and then of course it is, but when he really sings a song with power and poignancy about his need for attention, it is reinforced, rather than undermined, by the lies. His rapping sends punchline after punch line, some traditional and rythmrhyming, others discordant and disturbing- perfectly mistimed. During one song, "What's Funny" he slows the piano and shouts "TOURETTE'S" at the top of his voice before moving on.
There is no mistaking that Bo Burnham is special, and perhaps even a genius by his 20th birthday. If he doesn't win the newcomer, most likely it's because he's won the top prize already, in a storm of bewildered applause. But the only strange note, particularly for the older members in his audience, is the comparitive lack of actual, audible laughter. It's still there, but he seems to get more admiration and worship than screeches and split sides. To an extent it's because you're dazed by his ferocious originality, but it has often been said that great performers need to work the tension, and provide"permission to laugh". This is surely the only thing Bo has left to do now.
Ratings
Doc Brown 4*
John Luke Roberts 3*
Bo Burnham 5*
EDIT: Since I wrote this post, the nominees have been announced. Bo got the nod for best comedy show, but doc brown was unjustly left off the newcomers( he was comfortably better than Late Night Gimp Fight, the only other act on the shortlist I saw in full). I tip Bo or Greg Davies to take the top accolade, and The Boy with Tape on his Face for the newcomer
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