TALK ABOUT being late to the party.
Rightly described as a Fringe legend, this is Simon’s fortieth year treading the boards but I have somehow contrived never to have seen him until now.
And, boy, do I regret that.
This was an hour of effortlessly absurdist comedy, his “usual unusual” as the Fringe programme blurb would have it, and beat 90% of the so-called comedy shows I’ve seen over three decades of reviewing in Edinburgh into a cocked hat.
No wonder he was playing to a packed crowd despite the early slot (in Fringe time, so to speak).
A pre-show announcement heard Simon warn the audience that “The show you are about to see is meant to offend all people equally.”
Well, I heard nothing offensive, just a wonderful set stuffed full of songs (accompanied by a wonderfully lugubrious bass player), poems and – most importantly – jokes.
Jokes of all styles, too, ladies and gentlemen, from brilliantly stupid puns – “Praise the lard!” – to acutely clever gags.
I’m not here to ruin punchlines but Simon’s “share of the prophets” joke should surely be up for this year’s Funniest Joke Of The Fringe award, and it would win by a country mile.
Much of this year’s hour revolved around Simon’s recent sobriety and there’s some marvellous material about AA Meeting, including a barely-believable Beyonce cover “If you like it you shouldn’t pull the ring on it” that had the packed crowd sliding off their stools.
And never once in all my 56 years thought I’d be singing along to a musical tribute to the British airship the R101, then the largest aircraft ever built that became known as the Titanic Of The Skies after crashing on her maiden voyage.
And the fact Simon sang it while wearing a large replica of the zeppelin on his head made it all the more enjoyable, particularly as he’d gone to the trouble of painting the correct registration code on the side which satisfied my barely-supressed OCD instincts.
Simon gives the impression that this is, if not shambolic then at least pretty ramshackle stuff, flipping past gags on his Heath-Robinson flipchart muttering, “We haven’t got time for that bit, pity, it’s quite good” but I suspect this is all carefully honed comedy.
I may have wasted 39 years not going to see Simon but, believe me, I’ll be at every show from now on.
Simon Munnery, 12:50, The Stand 1, August 6-31 (not 17)
