Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

The blurb for Alastair Clark’s Fringe show talks of nihilism and likens him to Jean-Paul Sartre – which is all a bit misleading and pretentious for an engaging hour of straightforward, conversational lunchtime stand-up.

Resplendent in Ron Burgundy moustache, Liverpool-based Clark quickly establishes that the events of this hour took place just before the Covid pandemic, when he had a bit of a crisis, piling on weight, going through a break-up, and picking up an infection on his genitals.

The first is tackled by taking up jogging, the latter by a humiliating trip to the GUM clinic. But he was quite sure he didn’t want to address his singledom the same way that so many male comedians do, by talking about it on stage in the hope of a post-gig shag.

If any of this made him sad – and it did – Clark is genial about it now. Wobbles about his sexuality and the body dysmorphia he felt are mentioned only to provide context, not for gravitas. Worries that anyone might not consider him ‘cool’ are put on an equal footing.

This is no wallow in self-pity but a breezy, observation-based routine about his experiences, from the perpetual bragging of the jogger to the ineffectual platitudes friends uttered about his break-up.

Most of the things he tried to cheer himself up worked, to an extent. ‘Did that make me happy? Yeah, a bit’ is something of a catchphrase. And you could say the same about his show, amusing without being monumental. At least one routine has a structural crack which he papers with his personable delivery, while another seems overblown, at least until its full significance is revealed in a later callback.

In the same light-hearted vein, he has a fun device of appointing one punter to be a spokesperson for the entire group. Their interactions elevate what might otherwise be pedestrian bits of set-up into something more fun as Clark moves towards revealing whether all his woes had that happy ending or not.

Review date: 18 Aug 2023
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: PBH's Free Fringe @ Slow Progress