The theme of ‘twilight’ is tenuous at best- perhaps he forgot to develop it? – as really the only joke with reference to it, is the story about a party he happened upon in Saudi Arabia, which is very funny and quite original: the descriptions of a mansion filled with party-obsessed gay Arab men has people wiping away tears. Sadly there is a few too many obvious embellishments to the already witty tale, and that spoils the credibility on which the joke relies.

After this, he goes off on a bit of a rant about US politics which is nothing new, but he’s a clever guy and knows when to stop before boring the audience. He follows it up with a classic impersonation of a US infomercial for bladder weakness which elicits lots of belly laughter.

Maxwell relies on his Irish charm a bit too much: flashing a cheeky smile and shouting at the audience to get the laughs. He does have a lot of good material and is a safe bet for making you laugh, but he just doesn’t seem to be at his best this year.

3/5

That such a humble claim from Wright can be the thread running through the show is fitting, as Wright is a charismatically self-effacing performer whose intelligent mixture of humour and heartfelt poetry has the audience captivated from the word go. Those who saw him perform at last year’s Fringe as part of poetry collective Aisle 16 will not be disappointed as the start of the show contains plenty of references to those he previously shared the stage with. However, if poems like his satirical declaration of love for daytime TV doyen Richard Madeley are anything to go by, Wright appears to have no fears about going it alone as a performer. If anything this performance heralds him as the real talent from Aisle 16.

It is a measure of Wrights character that he shakes hands with every delighted audience member as they leave a thoroughly entertaining show, performed by a man seriously threatening to make poetry credible to the mainstream. The campaign to have Luke Wright installed as Poet Laureate starts here!

4/5

Your jaw will drop in this performance; perhaps through confusion, definitely with laughter and without doubt in awe. Pablo and Pierre Caesar are superbly chiselled and very talented gymnasts. They bring all the intrigue and delight you could expect from two Polish born, pint sized, muscle toned gymnasts.

But the show never decides what it is supposed to be. One minute you think you are watching two brother’s impressive display of static lifts and angular body torsion, many of which look like they are going to break each other’s backs; the next minute you are healed into a cabaret rendition of Nancy Sinatra by the twins’ female support act. She follows this with a Basic Instinct inspired battle with a leather and chrome easy chair – you will never think of Portishead’s Roads in the same way again.

The performance does however show signs of promise. The Play Station fight routine is a flash of inspired comic delight and the skills they perform here are backed up by a play-off between the pair which includes a continuous back flip with 21 rotations. The telling of Pablo’s serious high fall in 2001 mixes a video backdrop with an on stage re-enactment which could at a push be construed as touching.

This is a wonderful demonstration of physical ability but a choreographer and voice coach would be useful.

3/5

Three stand-up comedians, together in a performance just because they are Irish (and seem to drink a bottle of beer each on stage) try to entertain you in this one hour piece, but hard as they try, they are simply not funny. At all.

While Colum McDonnell does engage with the audience and there seems to be something of a spark (which blows out pretty quickly), he is the best of a bad bunch. Carol Tobin just talks on and on, with no direction or sense whatsoever, and stiff as a pole. She doesn’t interact, she doesn’t deliver punch lines, she doesn’t create tension. She is just there.

But it’s got to be John Lynn, with his monotonous rambling about being a teacher, and then his unfunny and patronising impersonation of a drunk ex-girlfriend, who turns this show from bad to the worst there is in the Fringe concerning stand-up.

This is more laugh an hour than laugh a minute, and inserting a swearword every two words doesn’t make great comedy.

At the end John apologises and says: ‘If you didn’t like it [···] understand us, we are still young’. Being young is no excuse for being bad, or treating your audience like morons. Avoid. Spend your money in a chippie. It will do you less harm.

1/5

Obviously this isn’t quite true, and Heeney spends the next hour discussing the differences between both generations’ attitudes towards everything, from drinking to national service to hummus, in a warm and engaging manner. His basic routine is solid and flows well, and he has an obvious gift for the gab – hecklers beware, as Heeney will give as good as he gets.

Despite there being a slight lack of belly laughs, Heeney’s show is constantly amusing and self-deprecating, and his slightly laddish humour is tempered by his entertaining family anecdotes.

3/5

Arron Wright bounds into the club, he toys with the audience, and conjures up a picture of life for a gay man in 1920s London. The play is part description, part song, part heartfelt monologue on the difficulties of finding a man to love in those times. Wright is charismatic and heart-rending, when he’s not picking out members of the audience to introduce to the joys of dancing the tango and cottaging.

The two actors do a fine job of transforming the intimate space into the Caravan Club, and letting you into their world.

4/5

The play is an interesting attempt to explore the issues of power around sadomasochistic relationships; the cast are excellent, though hampered at times by a script that seems to feel ideas must be hammered home. The play uses physical theatre techniques to express the unspoken between the actors.

The audience participation doesn’t work completely as a theatrical device; without seeing the play more than once it is difficult to see where the audience decisions would lead to a different outcome.

Lucy Christy and Tom Jacobs play a great bored and point-scoring couple at the fetish club, and Karina Cornell as Eloise does justice to a demanding role, and does a very convincing coked-up clubber.

3/5

You never feel this is a fevered ego at work, as Gaughan portrays so much of what there is to be proud of being Scottish: the struggles, the resistance to landowners and corrupt governments, the work and much more.

As a special surprise, the day I went he was performing in a one-off gig with his son Sean Gaughan. This instrumental set (with one exception), reminiscent of his excellent 1978 “Coppers and Brass” set, was performed before about 30 fans.

Sean, visibly nervous, rose to the challenge and they played a beautiful eclectic set which included waltzes, tunes, Holst’s “In The Bleak Widwinter” and a fine original composition of Sean’s. Sean’s sweet lead playing on “Cry Me A River” was particularly notable for its’ economy and deftness.

When he referred to this being a first, Sean joked “For one of us it’ll be the last!” Based on this night’s excellent performance it clearly won’t.

5/5

Where you would normally find dry sarcasm and lip-syncing in a ‘traditional’ drag act, Taylor Mac sings songs full of insight on life and the complexities of being human, songs that the audience cannot help but relate to. Mac’s performance style takes you by surprise, and you are never sure what to expect from his next piece as he interchanges between the ironic tragedy of political injustice to his own heartfelt introspection.

He brings humour to the darkest of subjects through revealing their inner ironies and viewing them in the surreal irreverent light they deserve. The honesty and vulnerability Mac shows not only allows you to connect with him as a person but also gives his material that extra resonance, allowing him to influence the way we perceive the world around us, and ourselves. With only his ukulele for musical support, Taylor Mac’s songs seem that much more authentic and raw.

Surrounded by the dank walls of the Smirnoff Baby Belly, Taylor Mac shimmers like a magnificent jewel in the darkness, exuding not just light but a hope that everything might ultimately be alright.

Taylor Mac’s Edinburgh Debut will change your impression of drag performance forever.

4/5

Presented as a celebrity seminar, the whole premise of this show is that 30s acting ‘legend’ Rick Chester is going to teach the audience how to make it in the Hollywood of yesteryear. By itself this is quite a strange concept but when it is presented with the sort of panache and attention to detail that is mustered here it seems unbelievable that nobody has thought of doing this before.

While the show is impeccably acted, it could do with a few more gags to be truly classed as comedy. That said, the conceits that are worked in all raise a laugh and leave the small but appreciative audience satisfied.

It is a shame that Five Steps… has got such a late slot, as it has a wide appeal, but is probably better suited to an afternoon audience that the inevitably inebriated crowd that is more likely to inhabit a midnight showing. However, Five Steps To Stardom is definitely worth staying up late for, so do the sensible thing and take the first step towards the box office.

4/5