Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

If Spencer Jones’s show was a dog, it would be an adorable mongrel puppy - a slightly odd-looking mix of indeterminate breeds, but cute and full of affection. 

He serves up cartoony caricatures in papier-mâché heads – the drinks-carrying geezer who scootches through the audience to open the show is brilliant – silly sketches, songs, stand-up, prop work, hypnotic looping beats and more conventional character work. It’s a delightful selection pack of silliness, with Jones announcing: ‘I haven’t got a plan, I’m just messing about.’

Not everything sticks firmly to the dog theme, but the smug posho forever boasting that his pet is a rescue is so real you can almost smell the gilet. Jones talks about the weirdness of picking up poop, tries to control both an unseen monster pooch and a strange remote-controlled one – and even adopts the persona of a pet waking up after a life-changing vet’s visit.

Some of the creations are way more surreal, such as a half-alien with a massive blue head or the almost nightmarish children’s drawing made real. Jones’s usual DIY ethos is heavily on display throughout, from the portraits that litter the stage to the Anglepoise lamp he brings to life with none of Pixar’s expensive animation know-how.

It’s all as charming as it is funny. Quite why the comedian sampling imaginary soup made by the audience is so hilarious is a mystery - but it is. You’d probably put it down to his palpable joy at doing the bit, acknowledging how ridiculous it is and how dumb we, as an audience, are for paying to witness such mucking about. But the ticket’s worth every penny. 

Behind the sweet absurdity, Jones shares a little from his personal life, such as recently starting to stutter and develop Tourettic tics – to absolutely zero sympathy from his teenage son. And he talks about how the real, human us – behind all the layers of civilised persona – is revealed whenever we trip. 

Because it’s a Fringe show, Dogs touches upon issues – in this case male loneliness and the importance of opening up to let other people in. Jones does enough to display a tender heart without labouring the point, with the message doing nothing to detract from an hour that’s more fun than chasing a squirrel.

Review date: 18 Aug 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Pleasance Dome