Kemah Bob / One Man Arnie / Mark Simmons - Bobby Carroll's Edinburgh Fringe Diary

Written by: Bobby Carroll
Published: Saturday 24th August 2024

Get ready for a blast of personality that is sexy, self-aggrandising and manic. Texan, black and pansexual, Kemah Bob's clubby opening twenty gets massive laughs and then the second half shifts elegantly into top storytelling.

I can't be the first person to compare Bob's raspy, sweet trill of a voice to soul singer Macy Gray's. Beyond her stand out, ultra cool, disorientatingly sweet speaking manner there is her lyrical use of language. Much of her set is a discombobulating glorification of modern buzz terms. I was buzzing - she was ironic, unpredictable and just darn good fun.

It ain't all sugar sweet candy. Bob makes short mucky work on animal dicks and her own "phat ass". We are on board. She can do what she wants after establishing her credentials, owning her stage. She careens into regaling us with her manic episodes brought on by her bipolar disorder. It stays breezy, she has a sunny disposition and mock celebrates every downfall by spinning the mic above her head like a victory dance. Part Statue of Liberty, part baton twirling cheerleader. Whether overspending or accidentally becoming a sex tourist, we are attuned to her high stakes, "Aw Shucks", innocent abroad persona.

Detailing, at length, her rock bottom of sex workers and Liberian hunks in Thailand, the second half of the show is deep drill storytelling. Some of the Monday night crowd became overly invested in the gear change. The light brushing over of the undeniable extreme peril, the move away from slam bang punchlines. The majority of us still found much to laugh at, though, while simultaneously biting our nails. Bob has a full comedy toolkit and she also breaks out into three Broadway musical worthy songs. Miss Fortunate is a star-making Fringe debut.

One Man Arnie. Turns out I was the one man. More people saw Last Action Hero at the Surbiton ABC than this! And, considering how often the Austrian Oak loving double act of Laurence Tuck and Ben Barker needed a press ganged audience member to play an additional part, I was often also on stage performing to empty chairs. But giggling, and trying to be as invested in the show as they admirably were.

Their ardent affection for Schwarzenegger shone through. I can't think of one reference from Hercules In New York to Escape Plan they didn't hit with their nerf guns, ramshackle props and surprisingly elaborate costumes. Even if you only have a passing affection for The Terminator franchise and Commando supercuts, here is a show that jingles all the way, gets to the chopper, and offers no one a raw deal.

The ultimate message is, as middle aged men, Tuck and Barker still have each other to recreate hyper violent childhood play with. They even let you join in... as long as you are happy to wear a wig drenched in the sweat of twenty previous stag-dos on your head and three papier mâché tits around your neck. Considering the small turn out, the on-off Free Fringe veterans stuck professionally to their script. In fact, the only performer who struggled to get their lines right was a Cameo cameo from Arnold. You'll giggle, I got involved, and hopefully... they'll be back!

Going to see Mark Simmons on the day he won Dave's Joke of the Fringe was an electric experience. Packed house. Audience eager for him to deliver that award winner. How strange to witness 180 people waiting expectantly to hear a joke they already knew? Such is the reach of the Best Joke of the Fringe trophy, that even my dad had tried to tell me Simmons' winner over the phone while I had my morning coffee. Simmons warns the room that it will get a weaker response than yesterday, plays the hit early, and moves on to stuff they are less likely to have heard.

The rest of the hour has at least a hundred pull back and reveals of equal standard, if not better. Where it becomes truly fascinating, though, is Simmons' efforts to show the work that goes into making every joke a killer. The refining, the changes in timing, the wording of the set-up, the emphasis. This is a real director's commentary track for people curious about how you get gags working on stage. The wide-eyed, sweet stage persona (he is like this in real life, the good egg) is just as important as sharp writing. He nails his joke; my dad needs a few more goes to learn it properly. Guess I'll book him and mum in to watch Mark on tour this year so they can see how the master does it.

Hot ticket Celya AB's Of All People is a brisk stroll around millennial angst. FOMO. CPTSD. Generational trauma. Unrecognisable breakdowns. Suicidal tendencies. Sounds like a hoot, right? Well AB has a delivery style that softens the rough edges. Arrogant naivety. Mock gaucheness. She has a successfully quirky gambit of misinterpreting events and reality while revealing a skewed truth about it. Her face switches on a centime from cheeky cheery smile to open gobbed pause of punctuating shock.

There is juicy stuff here. A high impact opener about how she'll never be able to own a house that springs from her left of field assessment of the economic value of a joke. This is the least challenging subject matter. Much else seems tinged with both the crushing reality of existence and a carousel of the hyper personal. She is such a well-defined writer / performer that rarely in the first half does her big chew not find an obvious laugh from her noticeably aged, damp audience.

This is very much a comedic style where the audience has to come to her. AB's subject matter is self-reflective and demands a high degree of intelligence from her punters. Her pace and tone stays on one setting. There are very few breadcrumbs if this isn't your thing. It is on the audience to keep up if a concept raised isn't immediately in their wheelhouse. Despite the unthreatening mode of AB's voice (plus the cosy rug and stool home she has made herself on stage) this is a show that more than flirts with bruising biographical material and jabby, painful opinions. Which makes AB a bit of a contender. She clearly has everything in her skillset to deliver both a raw piece of drama and mainstream comedy. I'm just not sure the later sections of Of All People reward the room with the correct balance of either. High quality yet slightly compromised. I nodded and smiled regularly in the final twenty minutes and felt guilty I wasn't reacting with more actual volume to this thinking person's comedian.

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