Fringe comedy reviews: Larry Dean: Hellbent | Michael John Ciszewski: Mother Superior | Jack Ansett: Looks Like A Bit Of Me! | CHUCK

COMEDY

Larry Dean: Hellbent ★★★★

Pleasance Courtyard (Venue 33) until 30 August

You'll never take Glasgow out of the gallus Larry Dean. And he's currently quite secure in London as Saturday Night Live UK's most criminally underused cast member. He envisioned proposing to his boyfriend in the Deep South of America, home of the rock 'n'roll that they first bonded over in their online courtship. But it's Edinburgh where they initially met in person. And it's Edinburgh where Dean eventually popped the question, affording this show a pleasing circularity that the neurodiverse comic and his equally atypical husband do their best to challenge.

For all his self-awareness about his singular physiognomy and of humour as a defence mechanism, Dean's autism means he struggles to interpret emotions, encouraging his negative perceptions of himself and the various grotesques inhabiting his brain. Ranging from a very accurate Gollum, to a lusty, heterosexual Mexican bandito, these symptoms of his disturbed thoughts are clownishly funny when he gives them external expression. But chief amongst them, the buttoned-up and cynical 16-year-old Dean, instinctively resistant to anything that could be perceived as heartfelt or cringe, is a real concern. As he prepares to get married, Dean frets that it's this character who's going to refuse to hold his piece during the ceremony.

And not for nothing either. He'd already raised his proud, sneering head at the Royal Variety Performance, informing the comic in no uncertain terms that, protocol be damned, there was no way that this Republican was going to bow for King Charles. The Establishment has ways of getting what it wants however. And similarly, the course of true love. Dean remains a jittery bag of tics and anxieties, latent Catholicism and internalised social conditioning against homosexuality. Which is a great deal of what makes him magnetic and such effortlessly entertaining company. But anyone hoping for Hellbent to have a happy ending needn't worry. Jay Richardson

COMEDY

Michael John Ciszewski: Mother Superior ★★★★

Bedlam Theatre (Venue 49) until 30 August

In the all-too-perfect setting of a church-turned-theatre, Michael John Ciszewski's tribute to his mother is a winningly sacrilegious hour. Against the backdrop of 9/11, the AIDS epidemic and lashings of Catholic guilt, the New York-based storyteller upends starchy religious doctrine for a heartfelt tribute to his greatest supporter. Whatever Ciszewski's career shortcomings, initial reluctance to come out and struggles as a patently gay, sibilant child in the Greek Orthodox Church and Catholic education, largely conflated here for ease of narrative, his mother Sophie has backed him. She even indulged his adolescent architectural interest in skyscrapers and a pop star crush that she concocted a web of lies to see satisfied as well. Throw in her job as a nurse, comforting terrified, HIV-positive young men as they passed over during the 1980s epidemic, and Ciszewski has decided it's high time the living saint was granted actual sainthood.

The big problem of course is that he's archly, obviously gay. And the Church has never been that receptive to acknowledging homosexuals in its midst, and certainly not ones like Ciszewski who were a conspicuous affront to Biblical teaching, regardless of when he personally discovered his sexuality. However, in this silly yet tidily theatrical production, the American has secured himself a hotline to the Vatican, where Luigi, an Italian stereotype and then some, guides him through the process of canonising his mother. Thus through a checklist of “miracles” and other qualifications, Ciszewski reaffirms the unbreakable bond between them.

Rather amusingly, his boyfriend, Brian, occasionally interjects with corrections from the tech booth. And the gayer content prompts a campy roll of thunder to erupt. Ciszewski is in charismatic command throughout, poking fun at his weird, childhood obsession with the Twin Towers prior to the terrorist atrocity, verified in journalistic record, while never minimising the tragedy or the prejudice of organised religion. Jay Richardson

Enjoying The Scotsman's coverage of the Edinburgh festivals? For just £2 a month you can get unlimited access to scotsman.com plus 2-for-1 Fringe tickets. For details visit www.scotsman.com/subscriptions

COMEDY

Jack Ansett: Looks Like A Bit Of Me! ★★★

Assembly George Square Studios (Venue 17) until 30 August

Since graduating, Jack Ansett has never had a “proper job”. And as part of the generation that grew up with internet comedy, the Kiwi prankster puts a phenomenal amount of time and effort into his online ruses, with the rewards there for all to see on screen. Treading extremely fine lines, blurring more-or-less harmless wasting of others' time with copyright infringement, trespassing and, most strikingly, privacy invasion, he appears to be working within the law but there are a few ethically murky areas. He would no doubt argue that it's up to individuals to police their own online activity and big brands are ripe for ripping the mickey out of, so there's perhaps a lesson there. But he's fortunate that many of his wheezes, not least his signature rendering of real people in the Sims computer game universe, are often uproariously funny, little hits that startle with his audacity and juvenility. The tale of how the tall, twentysomething came to participate in a child's triathlon is a longer, documentary-style gag that tickles with its wrongness. And his marks are invariably celebrated, after a fashion, his distinctly one-sided audience interaction unquestionably pushing the envelope. Ultimately, there's a throwaway feel to Looks Like A Bit Of Me! and he ends somewhat abruptly. But it's a debut with some big, surprising laughs. Jay Richardson

COMEDY

CHUCK ★★★

PBH's Free Fringe @ Canon's Gait (Venue 78) until 30 August

CHUCK is exceptional comedy derived from the most traumatic of circumstances. American comic Carolyn Castiglia relates how when she was 18, her grandfather, the eponymous Charles, shot and killed his wife, the stand-up's grandmother, and then turned the gun on himself. Linking together armed forces PTSD, environmental mismanagement and the US' perverse love affair with hunting and firearms, it's a complicated picture in terms of where the blame lies. But that's not even the worst of the story, as the adult Castiglia pieced together another, darker motive for the terrible tragedy. Featuring sobering statistics about domestic violence and homicide, don't go to this pay-what-you-want show expecting a comforting listen. However, the seemingly well-adjusted despite everything Castiglia is a capable storyteller, a mother with a stake in not passing on the mental health fallout to her daughter. And she intersperses the more activist aspects of her show with sufficient gags to ensure that the number of laughs match the quantity of gasps and tears that CHUCK provokes. Sometimes stand-up needs to be therapy and cathartic for the performer. But you don't begrudge Castiglia that for a single instance in this powerful, provocative hour. Jay Richardson

The Scotsman’s arts newsletter is now sent twice a week - subscribe today

Enjoying the Arts & Culture journalism on scotsman.com? Make it easier to find by selecting us as a preferred Google source

Want the latest Scottish headlines sent directly to your phone? Sign up to our new WhatsApp channel here