Review by Corry Shaw

Never has a one-star review been so hard to write. Normally tinged with disappointment, or even anger, one-star reviews are saved for the worst of the worst.

In this case there is nothing but sympathy for Chris Barnes, who obviously has the Fringe dream pushing him on to risk himself emotionally and financially at this brutally competitive festival.

There is nothing more tragic than watching a young man try to follow his dreams and fail spectacularly on every level.  Blame should not be placed squarely at the feet of this inexperienced performer, the current debate about whether or not the Laughing Horse Free Festival should be curated definitely raises its head here. There is no way this young man even has five minutes of material in his locker, let alone the hour he is advertising.

This is billed as a character show featuring Steve Nightingale 'pub philosopher and rock god', Amanda Buss 'single mum of three who will read from her holiday diary and be an agony aunt' and Trevor Feelgood 'Bible reading magician'. There were clearly meant to be long video sections between each, introducing more characters, sketches and animations. But very little of what was advertised came to pass, and it seems very unlikely this was just an unusually bad gig, since Barnes himself seemed resigned to the fact that this will be his lot.

This was a comedy of errors from start to finish. Everything that could go wrong did, and everything that could be bad was. The show started ten minutes late which was no bad thing as the audience doubled in size to six because of the delay.

The venue seems designed almost intentionally to give Barnes his first hurdle.  His extensive use of a TV and the high railings that surround the stage mean the audience have to sit as far away to have an unrestricted view, leaving a gap of about 12 feet between the front row and the performer.  Barnes' decision to use an old, faulty DVD machine leads to some of the biggest problems (and laughs) in this hour. It freezes... constantly. And because the films are used to enable Barnes to change costumes offstage, the audience are left in a silent room, with a freeze frame or maybe a skipping track, for long periods of time. The desperation of the whole affair is laughable.

And there are laughs, big laughs, supportive laughs but just not for the right reasons. The small audience is desperate to help this floundering man who is so painfully aware of the mess he's got himself into. He is unable to get out a sentence without stumbling or apologising. He is unable or unwilling to make any eye contact with his small crowd, choosing instead to stand at a 45 degree angle to us and play to the empty void behind the bar.

His 'characters' have no depth or apparent thought behind them, there is nothing to determine between them other than a different wig and a frock. All seem to have the same voice, the same style and the same lack of confidence when reading from the notes at the back of the stage.  

And even when read out loud it goes wrong. ‘I went on X Factor and took my dog on, I filled him up with bullets before I went on, it backfired...I've read that wrong.’  If it wasn't for the pain in Barnes' eyes you'd almost be forgiven for assuming this is a pastiche of some kind, that it isn't possible for this to be real.  

But it is.  And it's tragic.

Review date: 10 Aug 2013
Reviewed by: Corry Shaw