“I've been busy. I've been growing my hair out.” Not the the most animated start to an hour of comedy, but that's how American Tig Notaro begins Boyish-Girl Interrupted, one of the most original 60 minutes I've seen at the Fringe, and certainly the most laidback.
There are some comics who can always be relied upon to create engaging and funny shows, and the Canadian Glenn Wool is one of them. His comedy appears to be straightforward stand-up – anecdotes are interspersed with one-liners and puns, with occasional interaction with the audience, to create a small world of his own, with more than a touch of the surreal about it.
Carey Marx couldn't come to the Fringe last year, because of the small matter of having a heart attack. But, looking on the bright side, the experience has given him his new show, Intensive Carey, in which the comic tells his story without a trace of self-pity and with a keen sense of the absurd.
Gyles Brandreth, Pleasance Courtyard ***
This is an agreeable hour of theatre and political anecdotes that former MP and now BBC presenter Gyles Brandreth tells with great aplomb. He drops a lot of names, but he's very good mimic – John Gielgud, Frank Sinatra, Prince Charles and others make an appearance – and the stories (whether wholly true or not) are very funny.
Rubberbandits embody that modern entertainment industry phenomenon – a huge YouTube hit who have moved into the mainstream with ease. The prankster hip hop duo – Mr Chrome and Blindboy Boatclub (aka Bob McGlynn and Dave Chambers) – have notched up more than 25 million hits online and now routinely sell out their energetic live shows, which they perform as if music gigs.
The Meltdown Festival has always been a fascinating proposition, getting a living legend in their field to curate their own personal festival line-up, and present all of their idiosyncratic choices to London in the refined and retro-futuristic surroundings of the Royal Festival Hall.
The idea of the celeb as fictional life coach is not new. In Play It Again, Sam Humphrey Bogart dispenses tips on wooing to Woody Allen’s schlemiel. Eric Cantona offers gnomic pearls to a put-upon Man U fan in Looking for Eric. And then there’s the altogether more category-resistant Being John Malkovich. But they’re all up on the big screen. Luisa Omielan consults her chosen heroine for therapeutic guidance right there in front of you onstage, and a hilarious, life-affirming, mood-enhancing job she makes of it.
There's a quite a contrast between the 12,000-seat Wembley Arena in 1993 where, with the help of his erstwhile writing and performing partner David Baddiel, Rob Newman “invented” comedy as rock 'n' roll, and tonight's venue, a bijou children's puppet theatre seating 100 patrons. But then Newman - Robert Newman to those who buy his novels - is doing rather different comedy these days.
Ventriloquism, once a staple of music hall and variety theatre, has rather gone out of fashion. More mature readers - or students of the form - may be familiar with names such as Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy, Shari Lewis and Lambchop or Ray Alan and Lord Charles, but they are all decades gone from our stages and television screens. Nina Conti is now one of just a few vent acts to have a popular following, and she's reinventing the form.