Review by Steve Bennett

Poor Slim. He’s in a venue that seats well over 200, and he’s got five punters in. Two he never speaks to, so maybe he knows them, which leaves three of us – including this reviewer.

This is after almost 18 years in comedy. He’s become something of a stalwart of the black circuit, and is a Jongleurs regular, but this clearly isn’t translating into bums on seats in Edinburgh, especially in venue the size only Fringe regulars might hope to fill.

If he’s disheartened, he doesn’t let it show. Slim – real name Danny Gray – is nothing if not professional and keeps up his confident, chatty demeanour throughout. Though that chattiness does become a little demanding, as he keeps throwing questions out to the, erm, ‘crowd’, and there are so few of us to engage. It’s a very odd dynamic, and we’re never quite sure which questions are rhetorical and which require an answer.

Still, this engaging Londoner gave us the show he’d have given anyone else, so full credit for that. Much less credit for the material, though, which was largely a mix of lightweight observational comments and the old hat. Easy nostalgia such as comparing modern video games to Atari’s simplistic Pong, or talking about the different way men and women shop is simply dated and unoriginal. It’s fine to be mainstream, but you don’t have to be dull with it.

Much better was a routine about his own medical experiences, where his unquestionable performance skills brought us on the journey with him, and the story had the definite advantage of being first-hand. There was nothing spectacular about it, but it was very nicely told and showcased Slim’s charm. But it was an oasis in a desert of mediocrity.

Review date: 17 Aug 2011
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett