Michael Mittermeier: Fringe 2012
Live Review
Pleasance Courtyard

Germany doesn’t have that many stand-up comedians as we would count them, that’s a fact – though it shouldn’t be confused with the old ‘no sense of humour’ jibe.

Michael Mittermeier is one of the biggest, and here in the great leveller of the Edinburgh Fringe he’s playing a converted shipping container just like most other debutants, rather than the big venues he’s used to back home.

The downside of coming from a place with no comedy circuit may be that it’s harder to tell what’s hack – when scores of comedians start telling similar jokes, the smart ones think harder. But what if you don’t have that competitive driving force?

That’s a theory I dreamt up based on the dull first half of Mittermeier’s show, as my mind started wandering. Once we’ve got the inevitable World Cup penalty shoot-out quip out the way he gets under the skin of Germany as only a native can by talking of their harsh language which makes even their most romantic sentences sound like brutal pornography and the way they always put their towels on the sun loungers.

Oh dear.

Other tediously tired topics covered include  Ryanair’s lack of frills, footballers diving when there’s no contact made, and all manner of national stereotypes. I guess you don’t get big by being challenging, but this is very thin stuff, even if it’s getting hearty laughs that seem depressing for those of us who hoped for more.

He performs as if he’s still in a big venue, too. He’s got the discrete hands-free cheek mike that lets him gesticulate and pose in the tiny space, which injects some energy into the unimaginative. Plus, he’s remarkably eloquent in his second or third language.

One thing I missed when getting the ticket was the title of the show, so was rather baffled when he kept randomly suggesting things ‘reminded me of safari’ – when they clearly didn’t. This theme was definitely an afterthought.

Yet in the second half Mittermeier does show more sparks of originality which might explain what Eddie Izzard saw in him, prompting him to help produce this Edinburgh run with the aid of his long-term promoter Mick Perrin.

He’s got a great routine about the flaws in the Trojan Horse story, even if they are obvious, while his description of English road rage at traffic lights transcends the national stereotype it’s based on. Plus his answer to the dumb American (stereotype again) who asked: ‘Why are there so many different languages in Europe?’ is priceless.

These were rare moments of four-star sparkle in a two-star show, just enough to drag the average up, but he’ll need to come back with consistently more interesting material if he’s to make waves.