Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

There’s a touch of Ardal O’Hanlon to Paul McDaniel’s comedy, a quietly-spoken Irishman  (though from the North rather than the South), wide-eyed and gently bewildered by the world. When he says a phrase like ‘kicked it in the dick,’ the joke is in the mismatch between its swagger and his mild-mannered personality.

His softly-spoken stand-up is eccentrically funny, though perhaps too often reliant on a simple pullback-and-reveal format for the sardonic punchlines, even though it woks on a joke-by-joke basis. There’s an especially fantastic riposte to elderly relatives forever asking him about his love life.

The persona is that of a low-status, socially awkward naif who’s become resigned to that fact as he bumbles through life. Oh, he’s suffered hardships – the most trying apparently being the fact he sent a self-tape audition for the TV role of a shopkeeper whose butter beans have been stolen and never got a response.

The surreal story that spins off from here is less engaging, as he meanders around counselling, seeking validation for his anxiety, while being joined on screen by He-Man’s nemesis Skeletor – a cypher for right-wing social media radicalisation – and an alternative version of himself. 

McDaniel occasionally stops to stir a pot of imagined butter beans, a metaphor perhaps for taking time out to look after his mental health, which contributes to the glacial pacing.

Long, uncomfortable pauses and the fact he likes to linger on the odder moments make it impossible to build up momentum, and the show frustratingly feels like it’s come to an end about three or four times before it actually judders to its finale.

So while there’s plenty to enjoy in the Scots-based comedian’s low-key, quirky and self-deprecating humour, when expanded into a Fringe hour, it feels over-complicated and under-written, especially given his shtick renders it low on energy.

Review date: 14 Aug 2024
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Stand 3 and 4