Review: Sunday Night Laugh-In, The Stand, York Place

In those dismal days following on from Christmas and New Year, you might think folks would be keen banish any post-festivity blues, or at least delay them a little, but seats at The Stand’s Sunday Night Laugh-in – one of the venue’s regular weekly showcases – are easier to come by than usual. Perhaps most people simply had too much fun over the holidays.

Sunday Night Laugh-In

The Stand, York Place

* * *

Whatever the reason, the 40 or so hardy souls who decided they needed one last bout of jollity before returning to work had the last laugh.

Kicking things off is Liam Cumbers, a recent graduate from the club’s Red Raw newbie night, who tackles his shortcomings with a quick set about being overweight and single. Aimed at a youthful audience, some of his material is a touch laddish and frequently rushed, but some good one-liners suggest that developing his stagecraft and delivery could pay dividends.

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Dubliner Aideen McQueen, making her first appearance in Edinburgh, continues in the same line of single life and self-deprecation, albeit in a more nuanced and upbeat fashion and an observation on the over-confidence of American comedians ends with a neat hook which sees her re-tell a previous story in that style.

After the break another relative beginner turned loose from the Red Raw stable, Rory Telfer, shows promise with a dry, dark and dour comic persona. He drops out of character a few times, but he’s definitely hit upon an idea worth exploring further.

The ever-reliable Susie McCabe delivers plenty of chuckles – not that you’d expect anything less from last year’s Scottish Comedian of the Year runner-up – by explaining her apathy towards planning a civil partnership and taking a comparative look at the differences between Glasgow and Edinburgh ghost tours.

With host Stu Murphy demonstrating a canny knack for thinking on his feet throughout, continually garnering some good-natured laughs at both audience members and the acts themselves, headlining duties fall to affable Aussie Adam Vincent, whose intricately-involved stories about being accosted by drunken louts or disappointing his dad (and dragon of a step-mum) are stupid, silly and enormously enjoyable.