By Jay Richardson, David Hepburn

Published 16th Aug 2023, 15:52 GMT

Updated 16th Aug 2023, 16:01 GMT

Lou Wall vs The Internet ****

Assembly George Square Studios (Studio 4) (Venue 17) until 27 August

That the internet has radically rewired the human brain and relationships is hardly an original observation. But no-one, not Tim Berners-Lee, the greatest technophobe or tech-evangelist could have predicted the Pandora's Box it would become in Lou Wall's hands. Phrases like “jaw-dropping” are bandied about too easily at the Fringe. But Wall’s new show's extended introduction is a breathtaking, audio-visual assault that pins you hard to your seat and scarcely lets you reset your jaw at any moment before the end.

The show's incessant blizzard of ironic memes and PowerPoint-enabled psychotic burps are also the perfect framing device for Wall's scarcely credible, boundary-transgressing tale of twisted love. For 14 years, the Australian musical comic has been intensely, secretly obsessed with their friend, another Australian musical comedian, alternately riven with jealousy, lust and ambitions to eclipse and destroy them.

It's not been enough for Wall to compete professionally, they have also striven to surpass their rival in terms of social media following and earnings by any tangential means possible, including a hugely successful TikTok account of Pentecostal Jesus quotes. One of the most abidingly hilarious and deeply problematic sections in this uproariously charged hour is the towering Wall's side hustle as a foot fetish model, disclosing some hormonally-charged interactions with a punter.

At a certain point, Wall conducts a therapy-like session with their schizophrenically manifested onscreen self that generates plenty of heat but little light on their infatuation. They also escape to an off-grid, Swiss alpine utopia for get unplugged from their online mania, the restfulness of their gentle ballad symptomatic of their exhaustion and the show's need to pump the brakes a little.

However, when Wall is shown eventually coming clean to their friend-nemesis, be ready for that jaw to smash right through the floor, even as there is a beautiful and forgiving reconciliation. Disturbingly modern and consistently funny, Lou Wall vs The Internet is a wild digital ride. Jay Richardson

Chris Grace: As Scarlett Johansson ****

Assembly George Square Studios (Studio 5) (Venue 17) until 28 August

Back in 2017 the decision to cast Scarlett Johansson as the heroine of Hollywood live-action remake of anime classic Ghost in the Shell caused outcry. The character was Japanese so why couldn’t a Japanese actress have been given the role? It’s one of the most high-profile examples to date of whitewashing, a practice that sees white actors cast in non-white roles to make films more marketable.

It’s this subject that Chinese-American actor and comedian Chris Grace takes on in a dizzyingly multi-layered comedy show that promises nothing less than to solve racism. While it falls short of this lofty ambition, it certainly offers a huge amount of food for thought while remaining resolutely silly.

This is an experience where it’s best to keep the majority of the twists and turns a secret, allowing audiences to experience the head-scratching fun for themselves first-hand. As it features on the poster, it’s no spoiler to say that Grace initially dons a blonde wig – and a worryingly tight Black Widow outfit – to play the superstar. The reverse whitewashing sees him run through the actress’s biography and filmography, dropping out of character to offer commentary.

So far, so clever, but then there’s an ingenious twist, allowing Johansson the chance to critique her imitator … before things get really interesting and the nature of performance itself is put under the microscope.

It’s directed by Grace’s partner Eric Michaud, although you wouldn’t be surprised to hear that Christopher Nolan was involved, given the tricksy use of realities-within-realities - albeit with low-energy actions sequences, Edinburgh-centric detail and curiously understandable Mandarin standup.

It all ends with the admirable admission that there are no easy answers, but a plea for the audience to be part of a better future where the show would no longer need to exist. David Hepburn

The Poor Rich ***

Assembly Roxy (Downstairs) (Venue 139) until 27 August

The cost of living crisis makes for a stark backdrop to Gemma Soldati’s late-night clown show. But you won't find any piercing political comment, illuminating satire or even crumbs of comfort here. Banker-bashing in The Poor Rich is literal, with the American requesting that she be thoroughly (sexually) debased at one point, part of her orgy of Wolf of Wall Street-style excess. Intimidating her audience into following her demands, with her severe stare and even more austere, throwback hairdo, her financier character barks into her phone, cycles through a series of loan offers and debt arrangements, tosses banknotes around like confetti and hoovers up cocaine, occasionally asking for fantasies if money were no object.

With various minions debasing themselves at her bidding, there's elements of a dominatrix to the character and she's legitimately imposing. There's also fun in seeing how far the fearsome Soldati may push things in terms of the degradation, a bit of shock value. But nothing out of the ordinary for a contemporary Fringe clown show. With little finesse, and little to differentiate one scene of audience cajoling or terrorising from another, there's no sense of progression, of building to anything. Amusing enough in the moment, you'll nevertheless have forgotten most of it by the walk home. Jay Richardson

Stephen Buchanan: Charicature ***

Monkey Barrel Comedy (Monkey Barrel 2) (Venue 515) until 27 August

Somewhat daringly for this year's Fringe show, Stephen Buchanan has opted to mix stand-up with sketch, both performed in the room and pre-recorded for onscreen, the latter elements supposedly sharing conversations that he's having with his misguided agent backstage. And while he's not approaching Martin Scorsese levels of storytelling, the Glaswegian comic is nodding to them, with the results surprisingly and entertainingly effective.

Rather than diminish the stand-up, the sense of waggish embellishment and playfulness enhances it. A small, self-mocking beta male, Buchanan isn't one of life’s natural risk-takers, and cannot call on say, Richard Gadd’s theatrical ambition and violently nihilistic persona in his depictions of eccentricity. A visual horror gag relying on a pullback and reveal does not work. But his opening, about buying a house in a former lunatic asylum, really does, as he capably deploys the cliches of slasher movies to exasperatedly elucidate his tale.

He may not be pushing the envelope imagining an alternative version of Craig David's 7 Days or critiquing English actors mangling Scottish accents but he's consistently funny on them and good company throughout. Also featuring observations about religion rooted in his own relationship and some whimsy about rappers, Charicature is a mixed bag in a truly positive sense. Jay Richardson

Darran Griffiths: Inconceivable ***

Pleasance Courtyard (Bunker One) (Venue 33) until 27 August

There's been a growing number of stand-ups discussing their fertility issues in recent years. But this assured Fringe debut from Darran Griffiths is one of the more comprehensive and accessible takes on the subject. Opening with a potted history of how he came to be raised in a traditional middle-class family in Hertfordshire, via a loving upbringing that still had some dysfunction, and his younger, single years, the comic establishes himself as perceptive and likeable with nuanced thoughts on race, class and gender.

Mind you, he sowed his wild oats, dated widely, and displays enough cheeky charm to reassure us that he can bring the funny to the tricky tale to come. After he and his wife decided they wanted children, it emerged that Griffiths' sperm weren't up to the task without some medical intervention. Plain-spoken about the demands and expectations this put upon him – as nothing compared to those placed upon his wife – Griffiths can at least rely on the frequently bizarre and dehumanising aspects of IVF to elicit steady chuckles (not least state-facilitated, timetabled masturbation).

Given that the happy ending of their journey is established at the start, Inconceivable is a warm hour that is also careful not to rub Griffiths’s happiness in the face of anyone less fortunate in the fertility lottery. Jay Richardson

Edinburgh Festival Fringe comedy reviews: Lou Wall vs The Internet | Chris Grace: As Scarlett Johansson | The Poor Rich | Stephen Buchanan: Charicature | Darran Griffiths: Inconceivable