Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Mario Adrion’s opening video does nothing to build instant relatability or likability, given it comprises a reel of some of his sexiest international modelling assignments. But not only is he hot, he’s funny and smart too – which really doesn’t seem fair. 

Much of the German comedian’s debut hour is a look behind that image. Partly it’s a collection of anecdotes about the less glamorous side of the business, being brutally judged only on appearance, for instance. Partly it’s about his insecurities, especially surrounding the fact he was selling the image of being an insatiable sex machine while not actually having any himself. And ultimately it lands on the darkest aspects of the abusers lurking within the industry.

To prepare the ground for these murky areas, Adrion breaks the ice with some jokes leaning into national stereotypes of German efficiency, emotional distance and a certain problematic mid-20th Century period, all of which land hard, given the clarity of the premises.

The man loves a Nazi gag so much that he jokes that Hitler is his safe space, a topic he can deliver a bad-taste gag on with less jeopardy that revealing something intimate about himself. Some of this is plain black humour, but even here he flirts around nuanced areas, such as the involvement of normal German people – like his grandfather – in the Nazi machine.

Adrion grew up in a small town, but when an ‘accidental thirst trap’ went viral, making him something of a gay pin-up, he was invited to New York for a photoshoot, so embarking on a life so different from what was imagined. There he goes, being relatable again.

He takes us through jobs such as going to Milan for fashion week and encountering a callous Armani assistant; sharing an apartment with other models;  the pressure to be forever thinner and the gender pay gap that goes the other way in his world. 

His account, performed with energy and charisma, is self-deprecating and gag-filled – sometimes to the detriment of the more significant moments of his narrative, when he’s a bit too ready with a quip to puncture any poignancy or vulnerability. 

He doesn’t shy away from those aspects, in incidents such as the mushroom-induced awakening to trauma he belatedly experienced at the Burning Man festival, but adding fictional tag-lines cheapens it slightly.

There are plenty of other rightful places for a decent dick joke, however, and Adrion’s more than happy to slip one in wherever he can. Now based in Los Angeles, he’s adopted the American stand-up approach of packing in punchlines, while using his comedy to address troubling incidents and serious issues such as masculinity. It all proves he’s a lot more than a pretty face and hot bod with 4 million social media followers to his name.

Review date: 8 Aug 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Pleasance Courtyard