No money? Job cuts? Recession keeping you up at night? Blame Thatcher. Or go and see Tim Vine, who gives you more laughs in a minute than most comedians do in an hour.
Vine’s train of thought can be heard rumbling in the distance: the joke-amotive. Often derailing into surreal sidings of songs about torches or running out of steam when a joke flops, he nevertheless always jumps energetically back on track, due to the frequency of the jokes.
Dressed in nineteenth-century British military regalia, Vine is rightly named the man with the golden pun; able to spit out jokes like a comedic Gatling gun. His humour might fly over your head a few times, but he’s bound to hit you eventually. Pile of Hay in a Church? Christian Bale; Being mocked by someone for your pay as you go phone? Take out a contract and have them killed. One wonders how Vine will ever manage another performance, as he generously gives away so much material.
There is no proper thread to Vine’s show and his gags are often a bit woolly, but his continual stream of punchy stand-up provides a ripping yarn and one of the best performances at the Fringe.
Pleasance Courtyard, 4-29 Aug (not 11, 18), 20:43