Mikey Bharj was more impressionist than stand-up. And he was a very good impressionist. The trouble was that his impressions would have been hackneyed back when this competition was staged in Hackney a decade ago. Yes, his Arnie from Predator was spot-on, but it has been done spot-on by plenty of comics. Bane from Batman and Liam Neeson in Taken were good too, but the writing was thin and unimaginative. There is clearly talent there, as with Sutherland he just needs to find an equally talented writer to work with.
Last act of the first half was The Jest, a young sketch group who might have made more of an impression in a longer slot. As it was they barely had time to do two sketches and two of the team barely did anything. Their chuggers skit was the best of the pair, while their West Country Ghosthunters routine started very well but fizzled out in search of a decent pay-off. On a different night with a longer slot one can see them faring better though.
After the interval it was time for another novelty prop-based act. The Herbert, alias Spencer Jones, was a virtually wordless clown in a pair of white tights and a Dumb & Dumber haircut. Like Cheekykita he was certainly striking. There was a hint of Tommy Cooper in the way one couldn’t tell whether his routines were genius or gormless. It went down very well, but despite the odd outfit did not feel particularly original. It might just be me, but I’ve seen enough clowns now to last a lifetime. He picked up joint second place though, so I might be in a minority.
Rachel Fairburn came out all guns blazing and didn’t pause for breath during her five-minute set. Fairburn is from Manchester and had some very good material about how anything sounds like you are spoiling for a fight when said with a Mancunian accent. Very good, except that similar material has been done before by a number of comics, including Hal Cruttenden, about the Northern Irish accent. Her routine about her particular brand of hypochondria felt fresher. Fairburn had confidence and charisma and I can see her doing well as a mainstream comedian.
It would be around now that one would expect the audience to start flagging, but when Daniel Duffy (pictured) shambled on their was a huge cheer. Either he was brilliant or he had flown his extended family in from Ireland. Duffy – who actually turned out to be a character created by Michael Stranney – was the kind of dimwit Irishman who makes Father Dougal look like Stephen Hawking. He could not even button his cardigan properly and told innocent stories about cats with big knees and the local girl who everyone fancied – “even the priest”. Duffy clearly stood out on the night and was one of the few acts that you really wanted to hear more than five minutes of. It was no big surprise that he was the winner.
Arthur Smith's prediction that one act would die almost came true with Ashley Haden, who was the only overtly political act of the night. As he raged about terrorism and the way we dub some groups militants and other terrorists depending on how many white people they have killed a wisp of tumbleweed blew across the stage. The audience didn’t laugh a great deal but it may have been through shock at the material rather than its lack of wit. One can’t fault Haden’s commitment as he ploughed on, getting angrier and angrier, but he simply wasn’t funny enough, which is important in a comedy competition.
Don Biswas quickly got the audience onside and made them feel slightly awkward at the same time by explaining at the start that he has Dyspraxia and one of the consequences of this is that he has a habit of mislaying things. Luckily he then got some very good laughs out of his condition. Biswas turned out to be warm and engaging. He later mentioned that he has also been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, which affects his social skills. Then again, he chuckled, his inability to have normal two-way conversations might be problematic offstage, but it might even be an asset onstage.
Nick Elleray looked like a comedian from central casting - tall, bald, jeans – but at 45 had a fresh take on being middle-aged. He was Australian, but explained that he had moved to England because he looks better in a country that is poorly lit. He short act was a bit of a sob story about his lack of success with women, but it was told with self-mocking style and, most importantly, had some very funny punchlines. I thought he was worth a place – he didn’t get one, but he is certainly worth a look.
The final act Francis Foster certainly whipped the audience up. I don’t know whether he always shouts like this or he was just doing it to wake people but it certainly had the desired effect. Foster’s schtick – about being half-English, for instance, and another “I like my women…” gag, was nothing out of the ordinary, but he sold his material with absolute conviction. It was no surprise to discover that he was a drama teacher. I suspect he will soon be going into stand-up full-time. The classroom’s loss is comedy’s gain – Foster took third place.
