Guilt & Shame: Fringe 2012
Live Review
Underbelly Cowgate

This show, set in a series of nightclubs over a Jagermeister and drug-fuelled allnighter, is definitely not aimed at reviewers the wrong side if 40; it's aimed at the barely post-teen girls in the back row tonight, party frocks on and glasses charged with neon-coloured drinks, who can't stop themselves singing along with Justin Bieber and the dancefloor classics that form the energetic soundtrack.

Even so, the humour here is decidedly unsophisticated; aimed squarely at those who found Two Pints Of Lager  too intellectually challenging.

The first scene – after a preamble of a night out that ends in kebabs and vomit – takes place in an STD clinic; the last in a ‘dark room’ of a gay sauna whose slogan is ‘cum on in’, where anonymous sexual encounters take place.

Between the two we encounter pornographic mimes on the dancefloor, tacky cabaret at Tiffany’s Tranny Hole whose hostess proudly sports a 3ft black plastic cock, and audience participation that even Patrick McGuinness might find a bit cheesy.

The plot, for what it’s worth, is that Gabe, straight and promiscuous, and Rob, gay and a virgin, hit the town to each find The One. They go to clubs and parties, take dodgy pills, before their loneliness drives them to the sauna. And, erm, that’s it.

They have some pizzazz as performers – which is sadly lacking in the writing – and the whole thing is underpinned by a DJ which adds to the whole ‘big night out’ feel of the show.

But it’s for clubbers not for comedy fans, who might quickly tire of the unimaginatively puerile sexual references that squat where punchlines ought to be. The script aims for The Inbetweeners or The Hangover and squarely misses, by focusing on the gross, not the characters.

The only surprise was when some horrific scene turned out to be not so bad as it appeared – but after 50 minutes of the lowest form of comedy, I had been prepared to expect the worst of them.

Definitely a bad trip for me, at least.