Original Review:

Show Rating:

The show starts with Rolly's assistant trying to warm the small and undemanding audience with a few lame gags and a routine about the health and safety issues of flipchart use.

He does try to engage our attention, but unsuccessfully, and there is a shared sense of relief, when the main attraction, Rolly Moe, makes his way to the stage.


But this however is very much a false dawn; the man of science is about to prove he is no man of comedy.

He arrives on stage with a model airplane and then delivers an absurd commentary of the sort last seen on Michael Bentine's Potty Time, although Moe doesn't do it so well.

The audience are both mystified and embarrassed. And as Moe senses all is not well, his confidence and conviction disappear, abandoning his flight of fancy in a humourless twilight zone.

Moe changes tack and resorts to further absurdities concerning spare ribs, rap music's popularity with 18th century cowboys and finally an extended tutorial admonishing the audience for their blasé preconceptions about that vicious killer, the robin.

A routine about silent letters manages to briefly raise the audience out of their slumber, but even Pavlov would have difficulties eliciting a response with this material.

He concludes with a bout of physical comedy involving his long-suffering assistant, and an opportunity for the audience to have their favourite films re-enacted with two toy dolls.

The audience however, have lost all interest, unable or unwilling to conjure up any ideas for him. Moe is clearly upset with his performance and, acknowledges the audience's disappointment.

Some of this subject matter might actually be funny in the hands of a more exacting comic, but Moe's experiments in comedy lack precision, discipline and direction.