October 20, 2011
Before I begin the review proper, I would like to complain about false advertising: the show I attended was definitely sold out. Furthermore, although clearly advertised as being a two-man show, an Ian had somehow snuck his way into the show.
In fact, the title is because Rory & Tim promise that their show is free of corporate [DRINK] sponsorship [PEPSI] and untainted [COLA] by the demands of advertisers (not unlike this fine website). Ian, however, has other ideas, so Rory & Tim*... is enlivened by occassional product placement, which starts off amusing, trends through tedious, and then starts to get deliciously ludicrous towards the end of the show.
Rory & Tim** also promise to avoid the "hit and miss" problem that plagues so many sketch groups. They can guarantee that every punchline will have the audience laughing- by threatening those who don't with an icepick. One way or another, we'll be in stitches.
Fortunately for those who prefer comedy painfully funny rather than just painful, this concept is swiftly abandoned in favour of a rollercoaster ride of sketches. I only wish that Rory & Tim*** had been willing to let go of a few other gags, such as the time-wasting video clips that played between many sketches. The a-grade material was strong enough that these felt like a distraction at best, pointless filler at worst.
You see, when Rory's & Tim's**** sketches are good, they are excellent. In typical Oxford fashion, the humour swerves from the absurd to the obscure: we've got the illiterate Booker Prize judges, a day in the life of a zit, and a primer on being antisocial that expertly pushed my pun-tolerance up to, but not beyond, its limit.
The university-centric sketches were especially appreciated by predominantly student audience- the Tutorial Apprentice (you know, with Professor Alan Sugar) was a particular highlight. Rory & Tim***** are good performers with a particular knack for self-deprecation- Ian****** was wonderfully awkward as the unwanted third wheel of this comedy bicycle. Maybe that self-deprecation bleeds through to their sketches- I think this show could have done with more confidence in its material, cutting a little dead weight to get to the rich vein of comedy gold lying skin-deep beneath the surface of this mixed metaphor. But fundamentally, there's a cracking sketch show on display. Go buy your tickets now- Rory & Tim******* will almost certainly sell out.
*& Ian.
**& Ian. There's a theory in comedy,
***& Ian. That the longer a joke runs,
****& Ian's. The funnier it gets.
*****& Ian. You hit a slump after a while,
******& Rory & Tim. But if you keep repeating it,
*******& Ian. It ends up being hysterically funny.
In fact, the title is because Rory & Tim promise that their show is free of corporate [DRINK] sponsorship [PEPSI] and untainted [COLA] by the demands of advertisers (not unlike this fine website). Ian, however, has other ideas, so Rory & Tim*... is enlivened by occassional product placement, which starts off amusing, trends through tedious, and then starts to get deliciously ludicrous towards the end of the show.
Rory & Tim** also promise to avoid the "hit and miss" problem that plagues so many sketch groups. They can guarantee that every punchline will have the audience laughing- by threatening those who don't with an icepick. One way or another, we'll be in stitches.
Fortunately for those who prefer comedy painfully funny rather than just painful, this concept is swiftly abandoned in favour of a rollercoaster ride of sketches. I only wish that Rory & Tim*** had been willing to let go of a few other gags, such as the time-wasting video clips that played between many sketches. The a-grade material was strong enough that these felt like a distraction at best, pointless filler at worst.
You see, when Rory's & Tim's**** sketches are good, they are excellent. In typical Oxford fashion, the humour swerves from the absurd to the obscure: we've got the illiterate Booker Prize judges, a day in the life of a zit, and a primer on being antisocial that expertly pushed my pun-tolerance up to, but not beyond, its limit.
The university-centric sketches were especially appreciated by predominantly student audience- the Tutorial Apprentice (you know, with Professor Alan Sugar) was a particular highlight. Rory & Tim***** are good performers with a particular knack for self-deprecation- Ian****** was wonderfully awkward as the unwanted third wheel of this comedy bicycle. Maybe that self-deprecation bleeds through to their sketches- I think this show could have done with more confidence in its material, cutting a little dead weight to get to the rich vein of comedy gold lying skin-deep beneath the surface of this mixed metaphor. But fundamentally, there's a cracking sketch show on display. Go buy your tickets now- Rory & Tim******* will almost certainly sell out.
*& Ian.
**& Ian. There's a theory in comedy,
***& Ian. That the longer a joke runs,
****& Ian's. The funnier it gets.
*****& Ian. You hit a slump after a while,
******& Rory & Tim. But if you keep repeating it,
*******& Ian. It ends up being hysterically funny.