Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Pathetic Little Characters is an impressive calling card for Rory Marshall’s abilities to conjure up credible alter-egos, all intrinsically funny without being exaggerated. His creations tend to be either toxic or insecure – possibly both – overcoming social awkwardness with masking strategies such as awkward jokes or heightened alpha behaviour.

In the first camp is the police chief giving an update on an ongoing missing persons investigation. His eyes light up when he thinks of a little joke that will ingratiate him to the press, starting some inappropriate banter with the sort of ill-advised cringe we haven’t seen since David Brent.

Similarly, a dinner-party guest’s chit-chat gets increasingly manic as he desperately tries, but fails, to make a connection with strangers over the wine or his visit to Glastonbury. Then there’s the father-son chat that uses sport as a way of framing a conversation in which the child learns he’s unwanted, the news delivered with casual cruelty.

Marshall’s  delivery is 100 per cent credible, even when the monologues get a bit ridiculous. He’s perfectly measured, but raising the volume when needed, such as the intense clubber sharing his random words of wisdom, or inanity, with fellow ravers.

Socially similar, but notably distinct, is Dating Island contestant AJ, with very particular and surreal hobbies, including a love of Sondheim musicals. Does that pay off at the end? You’d better believe it.

A couple of Marshall’s creations are in the same macho ballpark Adam Riches operates in (though without quite such intense audience interaction). These include confidence coach Ewan Lint telling his charges how to get their own way, as he gets his – by whatever means necessary. Meanwhile, the teaching assistant running a test very strictly, might not play by the rules but gets results.

More toxic masculinity raises its head in the sexist, sarcastic barman, tetchy with the customers who have the temerity not to live up to his exacting standards. He’s withering towards them for not knowing as much about the drinks they sell as he does, the one thing that gives him a sense of smug superiority.  Meanwhile, he takes Al Murray’s ‘white wine for the lady’ notion and runs much further with it. 

It’s truly impressive how Marshall conjures up these rather awful, rather sad characters so convincingly and with such a pared-back performance. We’ve all encountered their likes in real life, and each of them is  hilarious for their abject lack of self-awareness which this gifted comedian so skilfully projects.

• Chortle’s coverage of sketch and multi-character acts at the Edinburgh Fringe is supported by (but not influenced by) the Seven Dials Playhouse. Read more

Review date: 14 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Pleasance Courtyard