Review by Nione Meakin

AFTER last year's delightfully odd debut, Box Of Cricks, it seemed reasonable to expect good things of this comic trio's follow-up, but The Grandee Way, sadly, fails to ignite.

This time around, the action takes place in Eighties Soho, a device which, other than offering an excuse for a few on-the-nail skits on the period's alt-comedy scene and some overblown period pop, appears entirely gratuitous - a recurring problem.

The narrative follows embittered nightclub hostess Martini as she tries to save her business by launching a talent contest and renting out the basement to an ominous group in orange robes.

As Martini plots how to ditch her long-suffering husband, win the talent contest cash prize and run away with her vacuous German lover, the guys in the basement cook up some nasty plans of their own.

As stories go, it's patchy, lurching from one half-baked idea to another and relying too heavily on obvious visual gags, swearing and amateurish clowning. Similar criticisms could have been levelled at Box Of Cricks - it was hardly highbrow humour - but somehow, enthusiastically and unselfconsciously performed, it worked.

The Grandee Way regurgitates the same motifs – silly dancing, contrived oddness, a hotch-potch of accents – like some delusional Best Of… compilation, drapes a confused, flabby script around the lot and tries, unsuccessfully, to pull off exactly the same shtick as previously. It has its moments, but for the most part, it's a mess.

The Grandees are a very likable group of performers, which affords them more audience goodwill than the show deserves, but it won't be enough in itself to persuade anyone they are worth another go.

Review date: 13 Aug 2009
Reviewed by: Nione Meakin