Edinburgh Fringe comedy reviews: Zainab Johnson | Charlie Mulliner | Trevor Lock

Pleasance Courtyard (Venue 33) until 24 August

Zainab Johnson calls herself “toxically optimistic”, the legacy, perhaps, of a terrible accident she suffered as a teenager, hospitalising her for a year but leaving her relatively unscathed. That's the context for her disclosing she's bought a gun. The US stand-up may be debuting at the Fringe. But she's performed in Europe enough to appreciate the frisson of discomfort such a statement might cause in these isles. As a tall, elegant, black, Muslim woman, she's nobody's image of a stereotypical, pistol-packing American. And her relationship with the weapon is complicated.

For one thing, it's a talking point on dates. Although she entertains worst-case scenarios, arguing with amusing but persuasive logic about the precautions she takes before embarking on these liaisons, her optimism tells her that even if there isn't a romantic spark, she'll at least get some stories. And so it proves. Johnson is open to matching with “short kings”. But she is tender while letting down those who don't interest her, reasoning “you gotta keep the nice ones nice”, performing a patriotic service for American women by gently sending them back on their way.

It was a male friend who convinced her to get the gun, his advice to her as a single woman living alone only making her feel more in peril. Johnson is wise about the various power relations in play here. So she and us can only guiltily enjoy the sass that she wields when she acquires the shooter.

The final third of this smoothly related, consistently compelling hour seems to take a leftfield turn, with Johnson recalling the bond she formed with an actual home invader, an opossum. However, prompted by the experience of another comic, there's justification for this tactic, with her demonstrating she can do anything she puts her mind to on stage.

Jay Richardson

Love Hunt ★★★★

Just the Tonic at The Caves (Venue 88) until 24 August

A vivacious blend of character comedy and clowning, Charlie Mulliner's Love Hunt delightfully depicts yearning, desire and soul-searching in all its messy chaos. Her principal creation is Amber, a privileged but pitiable young woman. She's poured herself into a decade with Rob, an unfeeling, oblivious rugger bugger, who leaves her utterly distraught and desperate when he casts her aside.

Relating their relationship in heartbreaking, unwitting testimony, unable to fully appreciate the wretchedness of their loveless procession through skiing holidays with well-to-do friends, the whirl of endless weddings and external pressure to tie the knot, Amber is a beautifully realised study in personal implosion.

Thanks to Mulliner's affecting, exquisitely pitched performance, you'll find yourself laughing hard at the character's romantic naivety, her commitment to conventional illusions of happiness, then sad and guilty for doing so. Never for too long though, because you're invested in Amber's recovery. And Mulliner intersperses her resurgence with various other, more outlandish characters.

The first of these is a wild-eyed nun, slavish in her commitment to rooting out lustful thoughts in the crowd, pelting hither and thither with a bloodhound's nose for sin, inhaling the reek of carnality as a vicarious turn-on. At the opposite end of the spectrum and indeed, the universe, is a lonely star, RSF32, hesitantly dipping its points into dating, its shy inhibition expressed in a winningly soft Welsh accent.

A hardcore, antipodean personal trainer is maybe the least original of Mulliner's set, her commitment to the burn and ill-disguised mismanagement of her own issues approaching caricature. But then the vampiric femme fatale is a familiar archetype as well. And the comic imbues hers' with a viscerally gruesome horror. Entertainingly involving the audience, getting them on board to support her, Love Hunt is a fun, early afternoon diversion to gladden your heart and soul.

Jay Richardson

Trevor Lock: How to Drink a Glass of Water ★★★

Hoots @ The Apex (Venue 108) until 24 August

We are asked to observe our fellow audience members closely at the start of the show and to compose a couple of lines of poetry. We will learn a lot about everyone in the room – where they are from, relationship status, even spiritual beliefs.

Lock, who is drinking a glass of water, asks a series of questions which divide the room, over and over again, into a myriad of different possibilities. Some of the questions are comic, some are intriguing, others are psychological and some are positively cosmic. It’s an object lesson in the way comics capture our attention and analyse a room, but this time we are part of the process. It becomes quite dream-like as an experience. We are all the same, even if we have different points of view. We are an audience.

Lock talks us through a few of the entries in an alternative dictionary he claims to be writing. And he suggests a plethora of alternative ways to configure a hipster restaurant. It’s a strangely hypnotic show which reveals our common humanity by showing what separates us and what we have in common. The poems, which Lock reads out to us at the end, are surprisingly lovely.

Claire Smith

Tiff Stevenson: Post Coital ★★★

Hive 1 @ Monkey Barrel Comedy (Venue 313) until 24 August

She might have mis-sold this show by giving it such a sexy title, particularly as it’s taking place in one of Edinburgh’s most notoriously smelly cellars. But Tiff Stevenson has a lot to get off her chest – and she’s not going to let the sulphurous surroundings get in the way. Her subject is womanhood – and the expectations placed upon us as we age.

In her youth, Tiff was a bit of a babe. It has to be said she’s ageing very gracefully, but she’s noticed that the world doesn’t leap to attention for her in the same way it used to. Now she’s fully in her power, but also starting to think about ageing, especially as she’s concerned about her dad, who is living with dementia.

Tiff always has an interesting perspective on class, and she brings out some choice hypocrisy about the way women are treated depending on their accent and their social status.

I loved her material about dementia, which was beautifully written and full of insight and compassion. I’d actually like to hear her talk about the subject for a full hour, particularly if it could take place in a fragrant, light-filled room.

Claire Smith

Robin Ince: The Universe and the Neurodiverse ★★

Gilded Balloon at the Museum (Venue 64) until 17 August

Once a regular nerdy comic known as a lover of rare and obscure books, Robin Ince is now a popular broadcaster who brings a bit of levity to shows about science and hobnobs with the stars. The show starts well with some lovely photos Robin took on his morning walk around Arthur’s Seat.

There’s some poetry, some half-arsed observations about art and science, rather a lot of name-dropping and far too many exhortations for all of us to “Be Kind.” His audience, who he describes as mostly librarians and knitters, listen politely. Perhaps they are being kind.

Claire Smith

50 Ways To Succeed at a Pointless Job ★★

Hollywood at Laughing Horse @ City Cafe (Venue 85) until 24 August

It is tricky to put one's finger on quite why this show fails to be funny, because the premise is good, some of the writing is not bad, and there is such a wellspring of ridiculous business jargon and methodology to draw on. But when the guy from the audience who wins the Pointless Bingo prize comes up at the end to give the bucket speech and wipes the floor with both performers, you realise that a comic needs to be more than someone who just says the occasional well-crafted comedy line.

Kate Copstick