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Yunnan Chen May 11, 2009

For one night only (this year at least), the Oxford Playhouse played host to three giants of collegiate comedy: the Oxford Revue and Friends, the Durham Revue and Cambridge Footlights, all coming together on the same stage to perform a selection of their best work from over the past year in a show that sold out all tickets and well deserved to.

Having reviewed the Revue (!) already this year, I knew how good they were, so more intriguing for me was what the other universities had to offer. First up were the Durham revue, who revelled in a Gervais-eque awkward humour with sharp-witted writing, such as in Nightmare Pilot (“I jihad you!”) or the Mac vs. PC sketch that all weary Microsoft users can relate to (“We don’t right click”); highlights included some brilliant satirical sketches of TV favourites: a hilarious parody of Crimewatch that warned us against “Sgurds? Sgurds! It’s backwards for DRUGS!”, and a loving mockery of University Challenge, with flamboyantly-pretentious-Oxford against dim-Durham-geographers that went down very well in the audience.

The Cambridge Footlights, next to the stage, produced a tight, colourful set of sketches, with a talent for the ridiculous coupled with clever, unabashed humour. A personal favourite was Desmond Tench, the growling Jack-Bauer general studies teacher (“balls the size of canteloupes”) and the Girl Who Befriends Jelly Babies (“…they don’t have genitalia, so I can decide”). Halfway through the set came a piece of pure stand-up from the Footlights’ Abi Tedder, whose rambling, absurdist, verbose brand of comedy was a highlight of the evening, in a monologue that spanned her origins and upbringing (“I’m from Essex … brought up on a diet of lambrini and rape…”) to her penchant for the Jamaican (“…eating jerk chicken from a bowl made of dreadlocks”), all flawlessly delivered.

The Cambridge set ended with a musical number, an eloquently foul acoustic rap reminiscent of Flight of the Conchords, and the Oxford Revue’s show began with a musical. The Revue’s whole set had a running musical theme, with ‘Clive’ at the Roland keyboard in the background providing aural support through sketches, as well as little acoustic narrative ditties by Lawrence Cochran interspersed through the show. The Revue’s shining originality and razor-witted team displayed some fantastic material, taking their inspiration from ordinary things and raising them to ridiculous heights: the rivalry between the Red Man and Green Man (“At least I never flashed!”); the emotional travails of cereal box characters; the social ostracism between the vowels and letter ‘y’ – all offer a glimpse of the imaginative comedy on offer.

Go see the Revue whilst you can, in the Wheatsheaf or wherever – and when this show comes around again next year, book tickets early. The cast may change, but the laughter is guaranteed.

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Yunnan Chen February 25, 2009

The world feels amusingly surreal after leaving tonight’s performance of The Oxford Revue. Renegade is a compilation of their greatest hits of the past year and meaty chunks of new material. Having not seen any performances by this year’s cast, I was unsure how they would live up to the memorable moments of the previous year’s troupe. I was not disappointed. For two hours of entertainment, this show is well worth your ticket money.

A departure from their traditional cosy spot at the Wheatsheaf, the small seven-player cast commands the small theatrical stage of the OFS studio. Expert, clever cut lighting between sketches takes away the need for props, and the permanent, melodic presence of Robert (surname unknown) on a keyboard, tinkling away in the stage corner, provides the rest of the ambience.

The sketches are a chocolate box of the surreal, ironic, random humour unique to the Revue. The talents of the players abound on stage: a loving parody of Neighbours gives a hilarious exercise for increasingly strangled Australian accents, and plotlines to match. The musical talents of some members are also made good use of, with little tongue-in-cheek sketches sung accompanied by acoustic guitar – one romantic ballad begins “I met her at a toilet in Park End…”; another soulful, acoustic ditty sings of a boyfriend made of cheese.

Other BBC shows such as Antiques Roadshow are parodied; as well as a risqué homage to Gardener’s World, featuring some excellent, lewd use of horticultural props. Some other sketch highlights include an enlightening lesson on political correctness in How Far is Too Far?; the tense social politics between the vowels in the alphabet and Y; Robert Mugabe’s petulant whine of “Democracy’s GAY”, and at one point, one sketch descends into an evocative pan pipe solo from a polystyrene cup. Though the recurring Renegades sketches theme was probably the weakest part of the show’s humour, the culmination of the night was a sketch of the same theme: a musical number that will have any Sound of Music lovers in gratified stitches.

Though the first-night was forgivably unpolished at the edges (some small wordslips and cue errors), the show gained momentum as it went on, and by the end, though the theatre was only the half-full of a Tuesday night audience, the disproportionate volume of the laughter was a clear testament to its quality. I was still laughing on the way to the exit, past the hilarious, messy remains of the smashed up scotch egg on the stage – expect the unexpected. Only hilarity is guaranteed.