Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

In his Edinburgh Comedy Award-nominated show two years ago, Chris Cantrill told of the isolation he felt following his move from the city to rural Northumberland. 

Now he’s settled into life in his village on Hadrian's Wall – if only to an extent. Despite code-switching to try to slide into different groups, the comic still doesn’t quite fit in. The gleeful, gregarious presence he projects on stage does not, apparently, translate to real life. As a comedian he has a ready, infectious laugh and delightful way of levelling the worst insults at people, while making it almost seem like a compliment.

But in the pub, the banter does not come naturally; attending a neighbour’s dinner party is exquisite social agony; and Doreen, the community linchpin, has made it quite clear she ‘does not care for him’. Cantrill has made just one pal, Jose Miguel, an inscrutable Spaniard as much out of place here as the comedian himself.

What there is for him, however, is the countryside. He becomes weirdly, inappropriately, enthralled by a cow at the agricultural fair and loves to do a walk around the village called The Loop, taking in landmarks such as the decaying hotel and an ancient tree with a history, very much like the one in Sycamore Gap, as we come to find out.

Cantrill sets out his low-status position from the start. We’ve all heard inspirational stories of comedians performing to an audience of just one at the Fringe and turning it into a triumph  – but the tale he recounts here from his early career comes not with victory from the jaws of defeat, only misery.

Things are different now, of course, with the award nod and a place on the Saturday Night Live UK writing team – somewhere else he feels he doesn’t quite belong – and he vows not to spoil that fledgling success with anything so potentially explosive as expressing an opinion. 

Yet there is an undertow in Rewilding about social isolation, especially among men. And while he professes to be at peace with ageing, he’s aware that white blokes in their forties are ‘the worst’ and vows to fight any impulse that might make him a bit GB Newsy.

But that’s deep beneath a daft story that merrily stretches the limits of credibility, especially in its payoff, and a witty stream of self-deprecating anecdotes, with plenty of gags squeezed in, all delivered in an infectious playful way.

Review date: 17 Aug 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Monkey Barrel Comedy at O'Neill's (The Tron)