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Review

Mixt Nuts introduce themselves as 'the UK's most diverse comedy collective'. Not 'funniest' you note, or 'most innovative'. Diverse. And it's not even an issue: two of the eight people on stage are brown, and one is a bit older than your average Fringe performer, but in terms of diversity it's hardly the Star Wars cantina.

These eight are actually part of a troupe of 32, with a rotating the cast list throughout the festival, and what they mostly do is fairly mediocre improv, based on the usual games of the genre.

They cope, rather than thrive, with the unpredictability; pretty much spouting nonsense in an attempt to cover the audience suggestions rather than finding actual jokes.

But then they set themselves too tricky a task sometimes: 'Come on,' they implore as they beg for audience input at one point. 'Just how was Bill Gates humiliated by a tennis racket?' Whatever they get back is almost bound to lead them down the root of meaningless surrealism. Only one game, involving a mime passed down by Chinese whispers, provides any real originality.

They are all pleasant enough performers, vibrant and at ease on stage, but rarely does it go anywhere. And it's all wrapped up in plenty of frankly irritating compering: 'When I say Mixt, you say Nuts. Mixt!' Oh do get on with it

Filmed sketches that fill gaps between the games ­ unnecessarily given an introduction when they should just play the video, overcompering again ­ are barely adequate, too. One copies the Indiana Jones gag in which he simply shoots an impressive looking assailant, another is a direct copy of the Meg Ryan orgasm scene that may be intended as spoof, but is just too close to the original. All rather pointless, really.

Steve Bennett