Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

It’s encouraging that even in an eerily quiet Fringe, three comedy newcomers can sell out a room at 10.30pm on a Wednesday. Maybe that’s testament to the pulling power of the memorable name they’ve given their showcase.

Angus Coutts gets things off to a cracking start: he’s upbeat, friendly and confident. His day job is guiding tours around Edinburgh, and with those skills he easily takes on the compere’s duties of reassuring everyone they’re in safe hands as well as delivering his own set.

He doesn’t get a great deal back from his to-and-fros with the audience but builds on what little responses he does get and maintains a lively, playful mood. In subject matter, he’s pushing no envelopes, with much about his appearance, bitching about his young flatmate and mocking Americans, but there are lots of proper jokes in here and his energy is infectious. He’s a born MC.

Lack of ambition in the topics is something all three might need to watch: two of the comics told similar Madelaine McCann jokes, and two grumbled about their housemates with the payoff it was their mum and dad they were talking about.

Michael Welch played it safest of the trio, sharing embarrassing childhood photos, discussing porn (‘who watches for the dialogue?’) and taking drugs, as well as making near-the-knuckle jokes about his deaf-mute uncle.

Yet sometimes these comments evolve into more involving anecdotes. Discussing his girlfriend’s sleep-talking rapidly moves from relationship gripe to unsettling imagery, and talk of dropping ecstasy in a club starts as a straightforward universal observation but becomes a quirky first-hand story. The personal trumps the generic.

Ralph Brown knows that, with the lion’s share of his set revolving around a very peculiar Tinder encounter on holiday in Budapest, while staying in sub-optimal accommodation. It’s not intended as a laugh-a-minute tale, but artfully builds up an absorbing, lasting picture of a young man out of his depth and far from home. His dry delivery contrasts nicely with the extremity of the story as it builds to a comedic peak.

This is prefixed by some sarcastic commentary on low-level banter which is a bit more hit and miss - but contains elements vital to the ensuing anecdote. Let’s just hope he doesn’t have to repeat his Hungarian ordeal for every bit of material.

• Wet Ass Rookies is on at the Scottish Comedy Festival at The Beehive Inn at 10.30pm until August 29, except Mondays.

Review date: 12 Aug 2021
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Scottish Comedy Festival @ The Beehive Inn