Review by Julia Chamberlain

I’ve been bursting to see some kick-arse stand-up all Fringe, and was beginning to it wasn’t going to happen. But in comes Dave Hughes for the last week of the festival and saves the day. It’s upward of a decade since he was last here, back in the day when he was presenting himself as the lazy, feckless, track-suited slob. Now he’s all polished and in a suit and the plaintive quality of his former set has given way to mature irritation with the idiocy of everybody else he has to put up with.

Blessed with sock-puppet features, a wide, mobile mouth and deep-set eyes he held court in a lecture theatre, a great way to see comedy, as it was comfortable, well lit and intimate. He really is super-Aussie and his nasal drawl was pitch perfect for recounting conversations with the everyday people who give him the shits for being obtuse or missing the point.

There’s no great emotional truths being mined here, he’s not brandishing a manifesto, it’s just gag after gag informed by his everybloke persona. He has the gift for making even everyday material sound fresh and funny.

His easy pace and constant interrogation makes him sound a lot like compatriot Carl Barron. There’s no harshness here, nobody is crucified, but it is all superbly funny. Conversations with his children, the sort of thing to make anyone’s blood run cold in real life, are snappily recounted as though dealing with adult thought processes.

He’s delightfully unflashy but left the audience gasping for breath, you couldn’t hope for more.

Review date: 23 Aug 2014
Reviewed by: Julia Chamberlain
Reviewed at: Assembly George Square