Edinburgh Fringe Comedy reviews: Finlay Christie | Twonkey | Sumukhi Suresh

Our fresh round of Edinburgh Fringe comedy reviews travels from the posh online sphere to Peru and then through to India.

Finlay Christie: I Deserve This

Monkey Barrel (Venue 515) until 25 August

★★★

If Finlay Christie does get what he deserves this Fringe then you will be seeing his name on every award nomination list there is.

Christie has almost unacceptable levels of privilege going on, and he is quite bravely open and honest about that. He is moderately posh, parents had money, he is cute, young, smart and seems to be enthusiastically followed online by anyone that knows their TheirTube from YourTube.

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All of which would be irritating enough, but he also turns out to be a quite phenomenally gifted live comic. He has what I can only describe as perfect pitch for the rhythm of a comedy line. And there are some genuinely great comedy lines here. He addresses generational differences better than anyone you will laugh with, and no one is safe from critique.

Death, privilege shaming and Andrew Tate are all here. Plus the concept of the 'swirl'.

He plays with words beautifully and his five minutes on the difference between boys and men is a delight.

Finlay has no known diagnoses of neurodiversity – which is a drawback on the useful 'how to be cool' list he offers us - but does have “a bullshit arts degree” which is a plus. By the time we are finished examining the relative struggles faced across the generations (a section which he freely credits to Monty Python's Yorkshiremen) we have had more quality laughs than in some comics' entire run.

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The whole show is impressively crafted – it is never slick, but it is always tight. I apologise if that sounds dubious, but just wait till Finlay tells you his queer sex story. This may be the input of director Bobby Mair, but if it is then move over Deadpool and Wolverine, new Comedy Marvels have just assembled.

Kate Copstick

Twonkey: Basket Weaving In Peru

The Dragonfly (Venue 414) until 25 August

★★★

We are a small, but representative audience when I visit this year's version of the Twonkeyverse : two first timers, one ardent fan, and me. Paul Vickers – aka Twonkey – turns shambles into an art form. Props are dropped or thrown away, only to be needed later requiring a frantic search, his new head keeps falling off while Steve Martin's has broken already (it is only the first show) but we plough on, having been warned that the show has been rated as requiring 'moderate concentration'.

It doesn't. It requires not so much a suspension of your disbelief as launching it into orbit. Just go with Twonkey. The seemingly bottomless toybox of his hour is full of your favourites – Chris Hutchinson, the pan pipe playing Tootie Patootie, your Transylvanian Finger Fantasy troupe and the sooth-saying ship's wheel which, tonight, reveals the mild-mannered looking Twonkey virgin in the front row to be into 'pouching'. We do get to Peru, although there is minimal actual basket weaving (possibly because of the chainsaw). One of the reasons Twonkey's shows are such a glorious experience is that, in a world where so little in comedy is unique, Twonkey is. His world is wonderful if you let go of yours for an hour.

One of our Twonkey virgins says that he didn't 'get' the funny. That it is like looking at a surrealist masterpiece, that you know is a masterpiece, you just don't understand why.

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When we get back from Peru, unusually, Paul Vickers emerges for a short chat, and the stories he has about performing with Dawn of the Replicants and why he was banned from the Stand (treacle and Daniel Sloss) bring a whole new dimension to a show which is already, quite simply, a multi-dimensional marvel of mirth.

Kate Copstick

Sumukhi Suresh: Hoemonal

Pleasance Dome (Venue 23) until 11 August

★★

Sumukhi Suresh is what used to be called a pistol, vivacious, expressive and firing out a conversational fusillade at a steady clip. Her Fringe debut showcases effortless charisma and utter dominance of a room.

Having finally kicked her long-term intended to the kerb because of his persistent infidelity, she's belatedly launched herself into dating for the first time with a giddy combination of excitement and trepidation. The struggles she endures are endless, not least as she's a celebrity back in India.

But she depicts the quirks and pitfalls of modern romance with an acute observational eye that belies her time spent outside of the swipe right pursuit. Despite the stakes, Hoemonal is conveyed in a light and breezy manner, albeit with a more conspiratorial tone for the more attritional aspects of the battle of the sexes, infectiously filling her venue with an upbeat atmosphere.

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However, when she does move on to a more vulnerable admission, it's done with a smooth change of gear that doesn't sacrifice laughter for pathos. Non-Desi audience members may struggle to keep up with her intense delivery and lose a significant number of references in cultural translation, as I know I did. But they'll be borne along on the force of her personality, while the attuned find her uproarious.

Jay Richardson

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