Brighton Fringe review: Threegomaniacs
By Steve Bennett
Guess how many new acts are taking part in the Threegomaniacs showcase? That’s right, four. One’s a guest, you see.
This free Brighton Fringe show is billed, not in the programme but only once you get inside the doors, as a night of new material and work in progress. Though it’s clear most of the acts are still fresh on the scene, so they can’t have much ‘old stuff’ to fall back on.
Except for the closing act, musical comic David Jordan, their lack of experience was pretty noticeable, especially when building that indefinable link to the audience (about a dozen or so tonight). Though not critical, this did feel more like a presentation of material under exam conditions, more than a fluid gig.
Opening act Melissa Moremon sounded too much like a comic, but not necessarily in a good way. Her material seems the result of ‘what if...’ writing exercises more than from the heart. It’s also very disjointed, one gag turning into the next as if she is going through a checklist, from gags about her big boobs to ones about the Pope’s fragrance. Smoothness isn’t critical, but this felt too formulaic and impersonal to really zing.
Dan Fardell was probably the most promising writer of the night, with some delicious (and possibly underappreciated) lines about his miserable lot in life, living in Crawley and unloved as a child. There’s a strong concentration of punchlines, and his wittily downbeat demeanour is a winner.
Breaking the central pun of Threegomaniacs was guest comic Julia Oliver (not Jamie’s wife, she’s keen to point out). She’s the least comfortable performer – which means it was a mistake to have her do a bit of compering at the head of the show – but her inherent likability finally shows through. Her material’s hit-and-and miss, but there’s enough to suggest promise.
David Jordan is a big man with a guitar and a hugely theatrical style that injects energy into the room. The songs and banter, however, are nothing special, covering women’s pubic hair (supposedly int he name of ‘feminism’), a very unexceptional list of things that piss him off, his own size etc... But the jaunty six-stringed applause machine does its job. He’s off-the-peg ready to entertain, but comedically, needs more development if he wants to sound different to countless similar acts who have gone before.
Posted: 9 May 2013