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Ross Noble Unreal Time Scott Theatre, FringeHUB Until Sun 14 March I know comedy's terribly hard and everything - and god knows I couldn't do it - but you see someone like Ross Noble and realise that most comics just aren't even trying. No, really: comedians, take note. Shut up and leave this performance lark to the people who are genuinely talented. Or nuts. Or, in Noble's case, both. For example: most comedians would have a couple of well-prepared quips to zing a late arrival running down the aisle, but few would go on to base their entire routine around it. More to the point, most wouldn't perform an entirely extemporised routine around it that was any good, let alone pants-wettingly hilarious. What started simply as a guy scuttling to his seat ended an hour later as a jazz-singing, high-bounding signwriter with a penchant for horses, as watched by a woman dressed entirely in meat. And the weird thing is that it all made perfect, logical sense. Sure, there were a couple of prepared routines in his set that were amusingly well-constructed, but the joy of Noble's performance is watching him zing off on improvised tangents as he goes along. Whether speculating on the weaponry potential of a pig with a spike on its head, or what poses best befit a sailor in a new port, or endlessly harranguing poor Justin The Bounding Signwriter, there was just enough time to catch one's breath between laughs before losing it on the next one. If you can get a ticket, get one. Get two. Get several and get along as many times as you can - you'll not see the same show twice. |
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