‘You might as well call it the Edinburgh whinge festival,” says Mat Ewins, towards the end of his new show. Sincerity and self-disclosure are the new comedy virtues, he protests – whither now the incorrigible joker, committed not to truth-telling, but windups, pranks and silly jokes? Well, Ewins’ show Adventureman 7 (don’t ask) might just be good enough to propel sheer idiocy back into fashion. It’s an absolute hoot, a DIY Indiana Jones spoof constructed from digital animations, good-natured crowd interaction and a droopy stick-on moustache. Oh, and the most brilliant wool-over-the-audience’s-eyes moment we’re likely to experience anywhere at this year’s festival.
From the venue (a subterranean bunker with bad sightlines) to the gimcrack videos, the show could hardly be more homespun. Ewins, runs the subtext, is a doofus with time on his hands, and he’s used it to imagine an alter ego for himself, a novice treasure-hunter charged with retrieving a lost amulet, and thereby saving his museum workplace from closure. Along the way, Ewins resists not one opportunity to detour up unexpected byways, whether that’s leading us in a shanty singalong with very unlikely lyrics, conducting a hazard perception test with a homicidal motorist in the audience, or promoting his new compound crockery product, “the Cuplate”.
Most of this is demonstrated on screen, where Ewins’ countless crudely but cleverly assembled animations supply ever-surprising visual punchlines. Comedy cohorts (Tessa Coates, Fin Taylor, John Kearns) pitch in pre-recorded cameos, the latter as Adventureman’s arch-enemy. A winning silliness predominates: an Egyptian streetscape fleetingly forms the face of a Chuckle brother. What’s impressive is the volume as well as the unexpectedness of the jokes: there are hidden jokes and jokes-in-passing, as if every jokeless moment has been rigorously weeded out.
But is that enough in modern comedy? Towards the end, our host – tethered to a lie detector – steps out of the show to open his heart about his preference for fantasy and fabrication over truth. Is it a breakdown, a confession – or something else entirely? It’s certainly a gripping moment, which throws the other 50 minutes of fun into more glorious relief. Suddenly, Adventureman 7 is elevated, from cracking hour of nonsense comedy into something else: a declaration of independence from serious-mindedness; a hymn to doodling, daftness and the imagination unplugged. It’s a blast.
- At Heroes @ the Hive, Edinburgh, until 27 August. Box office: 0131-226 0000.
