There is something glaringly wrong with the title of this Fringe show as it should really be an audience with John Smeaton, his press manager, his comedy sidekick, a front row full of infamous Sun newspaper journalists and editors (with many a planted question), two photographers, reporters and an absurd number of latecomers who have been lured in with a free ticket on the door. No one could accuse the Sun of not looking after their own, as to those unfamiliar, Smeaton is now a columnist for their magazine and he is also still very much a lucrative business opportunity.
But then why shouldn’t he be? He did a courageous and truly heroic thing on June the 30th 2007, by attacking an attempted suicide bomber with a group of other baggage handlers. But then, even the most patriotic Scot would struggle to name these other men as Smeaton became the media icon, the focal point, the hope figure after uttering the immortal line on what you would say to terrorists: ‘Glasgow doesn’t accept this. This is Glasgow. We’ll set about ye.’
The show discusses his meteoric rise to fame; his version of events, meeting his wife and his plans for the future and Smeaton himself comes across as a genuine, likeable and charismatic character. But quite what they were thinking about turning this into a Fringe show is beyond the best of us. This isn’t a performance piece, it is not especially funny or even insightful onto the events, glossing over many details in order to have a Q and A with the audience who are more interested in his football predictions. His comedic partner Arnold Brown, who at 11′30 at night is clearly needing his bed, does his best to keep the show moving but as a retired, dithering ancient comedian who has to check his notes every few minutes and disapproves of Smeaton’s rude language it’s clear that both men have no chemistry.
This is a strange little show, a love letter to Smeaton, but when one audience member asks him, ‘How long do you think you can draw this out for?’ you cant help but nod in agreement.
2/5 
Martin Miller
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