Original Review:

Show Rating:

A show called The Joy of Wine will never sound too thrilling, perhaps conjuring images of Oz Clarke and Jilly Goulden discussing the merits of French over Spanish. Yet, hidden away in the Pleasance's backyard is this delightfully offbeat performance, encompassing elements of stand-up, theatre and sketch.

This is a huge leap forward for the Black Sheep, whose Luxury Assortment offering last year showed faint glimmers of promise but ended up firing wide of the mark. This year, the duo have wisely opted to arrange their sketches around a broad theme and narrative ­ that of a stuffy priest and his halfwit sidekick attempting to convince their audience of, surprisingly enough, the joys of wine.

This premise allows Ciaran Murtagh and Andrew Jones to create a wonderful parody of stereotypical rural English society ­ the type of group that tunes in religiously to The Archers and live in country houses with twice as many bedrooms than people. Jones very deliberately puts himself upon an imaginary pedestal, above everybody else, managing to be condescending with every word and acting as if we should be honoured to know him as 'Andy' ("this is an informal occasion, I suppose").

He is the aloof, calming influence upon Murtagh, whose extreme physicality represents a personality gone off-the-rails, having grown up with dubious young ladies and cheap alcohol.

The pair work brilliantly together, be it verbally riffing off each other in the show's opening or dancing across the hut, wearing only white underwear and wielding bottles of wine. The show repeatedly lures its audience into a false sense of security before going to either an aural or visual extreme which unfailingly extracts a laugh; even a discussion of swilling wine will descend into Murtagh rubbing his nipples in the face of an audience member.

Their regularly surreal sketches also function well, employing the dark humour that the company proudly boast. These occasions often act towards a double purpose ­ both valid on their own merits and implying hidden depth in the actual characters. An encounter in a wine shop, for instance, provides more puns than anyone would deem necessary; some of which are individually funny, and some of which are so poor as to code Andrew's character as a loser far overestimating his comic ability.

Maybe it is the free wine gone to my head, but this was a remarkably entertaining 55 minutes, a show that will have you chuckling consistently rather than laughing out loud. Work is occasionally still needed on timing and performance, as some jokes are extended beyond their welcome, but, overall, a triumph for the Black Sheep.