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11 September 2007
Scottish Comedian of the Year 2007 Heat 7
Kilmarnock
Comedy -
it’s a game of two halves, you know. And this particular heat of the
Scottish Comedian of the Year managed to subvert the usual natural order that a
night gets better towards the end.
Indeed were it not for the work of compere Des Clarke the staff at
the Kilmarnock Palace Theatre might well have had a mutiny on their hands.
Heat seven kicked off with
the very affable Kim Griffin, a local lass with plenty of charm but also
the possessor of a filthy tongue. By far doing the shortest stint of the night
(timed at 4 minutes odd) she kept the audience engaged whilst shocking them –
but sometimes just for shock’s sake without having a great deal of purpose
behind it. Some stronger material coupled with Kim’s performance style could
see her become a decent act.
As a starting point in comedy, wannabe comedians could do worse than look
at Niall Browne as an example. He has an instantly likeable persona, he
has quality material with solid gags and a nice way of telling a story and
isn’t afraid to experiment with voices and bringing the characters in his
stories to life whilst throwing in some slightly absurd conclusions without
going over the top. It was slick and professional and gave the crowd exactly
what they want from a night out at a comedy club – an entertaining and fun
time packed with laughs. He raised the bar extremely high for this heat – so
far in fact no-one else could match him and he ended up the eventual winner.
The ever loveable Obie stumbles around on stage and splutters out
what appear like incoherent ramblings, utterances and phrases which often
eventually come together to bring the audience to their knees with laughter at
the sheer stupidity of them. Obie is a fine example of the difference between
planned shambolic weirdness and actual nuttiness – which as an audience we
were to experience later. Obie’s nursery rhyme material brought applause,
laughter and groans in equal measure – he certainly executed a set that put
him in the mix for the winners slot but perhaps the undisciplined nature of his
work lost him votes.
Kilmarnock
’s very own Billy Kirkwood is a bit of
a local comedy celebrity. He has a fan base and his bravado on taking the stage
commands attention immediately from those that aren’t part of the gang. His
loud manner and well honed performance skills keep an audience’s attention
throughout. There are lots of ideas bounding about in the set and all are
delivered with gusto, however it appears there’s little to link them to the
outside observer. His tales of childhood are heart warming but don’t
necessarily cross the divide and connect with a mixed audience that perhaps
aren’t already fans of his style. In a different heat he may not have taken
second place as he did here – however there’s bags of potential with Billy.
And then came the break and our venture into the unknown and the downright
weird.
Hilary Taylor,
new to most familiar with the Scottish circuit, made her way up from London for
the gig – and so did her material – which was so heavily rooted in
Westminister and its’ surrounding postcodes that the Kilmarnock audience found
it difficult to get tuned in. She works at the House Of Commons during the day
and the people she talks about are alien to most, but Hilary didn’t quite have
the storytelling abilities to make us get to know these characters better,
rather relying on stereotypes about Tory MPs to make her points which made the
material feel stale. She’s a nice enough sort herself on stage and she’d be
a perfectly pleasant to chat with on a short train journey but not necessarily
strong enough to take these anecdotes to the stage.
Jim Hobbit
also performed in
Kilmarnock
– he was briefly joined by a lady who am-drammed some lines to which
Jim responded before playing a rubber guitar and blowing a kazoo. Comedians
gathered at the back of the room sniggered some, which eventually filtered down
to the back rows of the real audience, while members in the front row remained
stunned and unsure of where to look. A performance good enough to secure Jim
last place and make the crowd immune to any later attempts at bizzare, gonzo
comedy.
Jimmy Carr has spawned a million deadpan joker imitators and our next
contestant, Thomas Williams, had this familiar feel about him. Perhaps
given a different slot Thomas might have done better but following Jim Hobbit
can’t be easy. Thomas was too low key for this audience and he seemed to lack
the kind of extreme confidence this style of comedy requires. More oomph in both
performance, confidence and material is required before Thomas can be considered
a serious contender.
Wearing a see-through plastic Mac and a pair of black Speedos, Bunstan
McFunstan buys a very cheap laugh based on his costume alone – his
attempts at weirding out the audience was in vain as Jim Hobbit had played that
card already. So the Pat Kane look-a-like, with his continually bobbing up and
down stance, was forced to rely on his gags to impress. He got the laughs
sporadically but this was as a result of simply having picked up the pace
following the extreme feelings of awkwardness in the room following the earlier
two acts. The set was over long, incoherent, slightly smug and ended on a weird
bit of role play, which involved the audience caressing their bums. Simply
dreadful and didn’t even have the charm of The Hobbit’s genuine craziness
– just a slightly chilling, uncomfortable feeling from a man that folk would
assume should know better.
Poor sod Mark Dempsey had to try and work with this now mentally
battered and bruised audience. And to add to his difficulties he was born in the
town next door –
Ayr
–
and is saddled with an English accent. He spent some time enthusiastically
explaining his background and praising the pies at Kilmarnock FC’s
Rugby
Park
, but he seemed to lose his way, his confidence
and enthusiasm halfway in and rambled to a polite finish, respectfully applauded
by the punters. Good effort in tough circumstances.
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