Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

There haven’t been many breakthrough sketch comedy groups in recent years, but those who do get noticed have tended to adopt an overarching theme or big concept, perhaps to combat the ‘hit and miss’ criticism perpetually levelled at the genre.

For Eyes Closed, Mouth Open, the preternaturally talented Grubby Little Mitts have evolved. Previously offering standalone skits, they’ve gone very high-concept with all the absurd, sometimes baffling, vignettes in this hour ultimately revealing themselves to be part of a bigger – still surreal, but this time recognisable – picture.

This can make the show feel contrived and over-directed, trying too hard to be clever by evoking faux intrigue out of not explaining things very well. Sometimes that comes off spectacularly, but in other places, labour has gone into constructing a convoluted structure that could maybe have gone towards gags. And while the pieces falling together is satisfying, it may not be worth all the baggage required.

That said, there’s a lot to enjoy here, not least because Sullivan Brown and Rosie Nicholls are such stand-out comedy performers, getting laughs from their acting that wouldn’t be obvious on the page. Their initial shock at finding the audience in their space is a joy, setting out their skills from the get-go.

They have a precision that still allows for looseness, and boast a great chemistry, never more so than in intense opening scenes when Rosie bullies the more simpering  Sullivan. That particular dynamic’s not sustained for the full hour – more’s the pity, maybe – but does return occasionally.

Sketches the pair resolve into their overarching narrative include the political reaction to an imminent alien invasion, tropes of TV weather forecasters, and an odd owl handler.

Meanwhile, a strong red-and-black aesthetic – as seen on the White Stripes or comedy Krautrock duo Die Roten Punkte – gives them a strong visual identity. And talking of the White Stripes, one skit switches from melodrama into a creepily ambiguous sibling/lover relationship under the auspices of the omnipotent Big Mum.

The comedy of awkwardness is often overdone - including in this show, with a string of bizarre coffee shop encounters falling into that category, too - but sometimes Grubby Little Mitts get it just right. When they do get laughs, they tend to land hard, thanks to those impressive acting chops selling the scenario so well.

One especially audacious – and impressively cunning – bit of audience manipulation really shows what Brown and Nicholls are capable of. This, their third Fringe hour, might not yet be their massive breakthrough, but you wouldn’t bet against that happening soon.

Review date: 2 Aug 2024
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Assembly George Square