Review > Comedy review: Frank Skinner's Credit Crunch Cabaret
Frank Skinner
THE credit crunch is biting, and as Frank Skinner shuffles on to the stage, bemoaning the fact that he once had a TV show, we almost feel sorry for him. But he has just sold out one of the biggest venues on the Fringe, so he’s not doing too badly.
ASSEMBLY @ GEORGE STREET (VENUE 3)
So what have we cash-strapped denizens got to laugh about in these straitened times? There’s Skinner’s outrageous chat for a start. He launches straight into some edgy banter with a couple of wheelchair-users at the front, recalling an excruciating occasion when he berated a one-armed man in the audience for not clapping.
He may be in his fifties, but Skinner still gets away with the cheeky-chappie routine thanks to his sense of mischief and wonderfully quick-witted repartee. We could have listened to him all night, but his was not the only name on the bill.
First up, the night I went, we got Jen Brister, whose workmanlike set encompassed some fairly tired stuff about coming out as a lesbian to her Spanish mother (“Thank God, I thought you were going to tell me you were vegetarian”).
Then we got the first of two helpings of burlesquery from Edinburgh’s Missy Malone who, despite the sequins, tassels and feathers, didn’t quite captivate in the cavernous auditorium.
Next was a lame quiz, in which two audience members were invited to answer pointless questions about celebrities. But, just when it looked as though the recession really had taken the bang out of this cabaret’s buck, Skinner pulled a rabbit out of the hat: Michael McIntyre.
There was an audible murmur of delight as he bounded on to greet his adoring fans, putting a gloss on proceedings that had looked like bordering on the tawdry.
Until tomorrow. Today midnight.
