Review by Steve Bennett

An overweight, middle-aged man, he walks out in an unflatteringly figure-hugging blood-red, Lycra outfit - and believe me, there's a lot of figure to hug. He looks like a spacehopper with a lunchbox.

But his gimmicky get-up, redolent of Julian Clary's Joan Collins Fan Club costumes, sticks in the mind a lot more than his act.

A bit of pantomime rabble-rousing gets the crowd temporarily on side, no doubt learned from his other job as leader of a cabaret band, but Ferringo soon loses them with extended jokes that lack both punchlines and credibilty.

There are a couple of well-written lines among all the flab (and I mean that metaphorically), including a stonker about the phrase "Indian giver" delivered as a throwaway aside. But the good 'uns are diluted in a tide of mediocrity.

Review date: 1 Nov 2003
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett