Review by Steve Bennett

Sam Fletcher is the latest in the breed of comedians who don’t believe in showmanship, instead harnessing and projecting their lack of comfort in their own skin in the hope the audience find such a lack of pretence endearing.

Luckily – at least in the context of an underpopulated Free Fringe lunchtime gig– we do.

In the spirit of lo-fi, indie comedy, he hands out home-made programmes before displaying a battery of cheaply-constructed props and hand-drawn sketches, and indulging in some terrible old ‘jokes’ without much of a twist. It’s almost like eavesdropping on an uncle trying to entertain their six-year-old niece, making distractions, tricks – and even illustrations animated in the way of a pop-up book – from whatever is lying around.

Other parts of the show seems like a series of low-rent Dragons’ Den pitches as he presents various Heath Robinson-like ideas which he hopes will make his fortune – inspired by American guitarist Les Paul, as one running joke goes, and the musical innovations he created in his own workshop.

That these fall apart is part of the joke, like Tommy Cooper meeting a pre-political Josie Long. He’s very much a student of the underplayed and there are touches of  Tim Key and Tom Basden, too, though he is far from achieving their consistency.

As many scenes will have you going ‘huh?’ – we’re looking at you, tarot cards sketch – as win you over with their amateur appeal… though as the show moves towards its conclusion it seems he has more skills than his modest delivery ever let on.

And ultimately it’s childishly sweet enough to warrant an hour of your time, especially when there’s no cover charge.

Review date: 12 Aug 2012
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Bannermans