Young and obsessed by boys' toys and cow-shaving

Published on Sunday 8 August 2004 02:26

Russell Howard

Pleasance Hut, until August 30

Danny Bhoy

Pod Deco, until August 30

Daniel Kitson

The Stand, until August 30

RUSSELL Howard is suitably fresh-faced and bouncy for someone doing their first solo show. At the age of 24, he is not in a position to regale audiences with deep comedic riffings on the meaning of life, so wisely settles for recalling a youth spent shaving rude words on to cows.

When not practising topiary on cattle, Howard, like most teenage boys, made masturbation a key component of his leisure activities. Unlike most teenage boys, Howard had to draw his mother’s attention to his hobby by running up a three-digit phone bill for calls to a sex line in Rotherham. Cue much familial embarrassment and cold shoulders from formerly loving aunts at weddings and Christmas dinners.

Much of the rest of his set follows similar themes, with the joys of PlayStations getting mixed up with the lows of worrying about the contents of his underpants. A brief diversion from teenage concerns yielded a promising routine about God and Irish dancer Michael Flatley facing each other down in a dance-off.

Like all three of the shows reviewed here, this was a preview show and still a bit rough around the edges. Some of the problems, Howard will be able to polish up. Others are a bit deeper. There is maybe 35 to 40 minutes’ worth of decent material here and it is not well structured. Some of his call backs, where he links a current topic to a previously discussed one, are as clumsy as his early attempts at cow coiffure.

He more or less gets away with it because he is so enthusiastic. Howard exudes a Tigger-like energy that papers over some of the cracks, but his report card is stamped "Could do better".

Much further up the comedic food chain is Danny Bhoy, who has sold out in Edinburgh for the past few years while upping the venue each time. This year, he is filling up the 600-capacity Pod 1, and it is not hard to see why. His material is targeted squarely at the mainstream and his delivery is technically deft.

His show centres on the way that technology numbs human relations. "Why have text sex when you could have the real thing?" is one of his points. Threaded through this theme are childhood memories of a best friend Bhoy lost touch with.

It is a bittersweet tale that has plenty of nostalgic charm but keeps straying over into dangerously mawkish whimsy. A list of things Bhoy decided to pack when he ran away aged seven is winsome to begin with but wearing by the time the tally of objects passes a dozen. Teacups? Check. Ho ho. Saucers? Check. Oh yes. Ha ha. Yet another cute childhood trinket that demonstrates the loveable but flawed logic of children? Give us a break.

The material is too bland for my taste, but Bhoy delivers it brilliantly with each line having its own comedic rhythm as well as slotting perfectly into the wider story. He has the comic pause and the unexpected twist down to a fine art. If only it had an edge. A Saturday night prime-time slot can’t be far away.

Daniel Kitson could have had any TV slot he wanted when he won the Perrier a couple of years back. However, he is nothing if not contrary and passed up what most comedians would crucify their first-born for.

In about five years, Kitson has gone from unknown to comedy hero to jaded cynic. Earlier this year, he thought about packing in stand-up altogether, so disillusioned was he. Thankfully he didn’t.

It is a contradiction in terms but if loners stuck together and formed a union, Kitson would be their king. Analytically sour about the conventions that bind most of his peers, Kitson is the voice in the wilderness shouting about the hypocrisy of mating rituals, the false security of fitting in and the over-riding crapness of what he, of course, terms "discotheques".

What makes Kitson all the more unusual is that stand-up is such a balls-achingly trendy genre. It’s a world full of over-confident, over-reaching young men, desperate to prove how smart they are. Kitson doesn’t even appear to be trying, but nonetheless does it beautifully. He is so relaxed on stage that he can deconstruct his comedy as he goes along, pointing out how he made the audience laugh even at lines that aren’t inherently funny.

Go see him now in case he decides to quit and live as a recluse with nothing but his beard and bitterness for company.