Alcock Improv and the year’s first Smoker stood side by side this week as the latest episode of Cambridge Comedy kicked off with a bang. Or at least a loud whirring sound. Whilst Smokers are of course normally an infamous bastion of democracy in lending any budding comedian (or at least a select few) a forum in which to perform, this week’s Committee Smoker was exceptionally undertaken only by the Footlights Committee And Friends. This is a Committee bereft of several of its previously most established members, but which stepped into the breach with panache and conviction.
It started off well but the show was something of a mixed bag: at times genuinely funny and surprisingly political, elsewhere the hints of a smug complacency detracted from the edginess that has arguably been a forte of previous Smokers. Indeed, one might whisper, at the risk of sounding a spoilsport, that the several gags at the expense of the disabled/stupid/inferior were cheap shots; and surely “Comedy” could be better used to deflate, not swell,
the Cambridge ego?
It did not help, perhaps, that much of the material had been done before, and done better: it might be time to move on to prevent what was originally experimental from becoming stale and over-rehearsed. Yet at the same time, it was in delivery that many sketches suffered, trailing off towards the end, undermining material that had the
potential to be provocative, imaginative and very funny but which often fell slightly short of the mark.
When it worked though, it worked well: notably a parody of a Coldplay song, In your face, by a snubbed musician with acceptance issues; a dry comment on champagne socialism; a sketch involving a pair of jeans so skinny one wondered if their real purpose was to act as a muscle support; and a piece satirising the stereotype of a bookish don by suggesting the literary worth and light-reading possibilities of a dictionary, that included a humorous, if bizarre, demonstration of quite how resistant a dust jacket can be. Whilst this piece was weakened by being distastefully and unnecessarily executed mimicking the voice of someone suffering from cerebral palsy, it drew much mirth for its originality, wit and lack of inhibition.
Alcock Improv the next day did not lack in originality. A bold group of five actors ready to respond to anything the audience might throw at them, their show was reminiscent
of a drama lesson. It started off with a detective game, working through songs, general improvisation and culminating in a surreal scene whose central humour derived from the fact one cast member had his or her head in a bucket of water at all times, from which the others had to find “realistic” excuses (“I hear drowning”) to leave the stage and extricate them. Desperate flailing arms as they danced with death and pushed the boundaries of health and safety protocols prompted raucous laughter.
Tom Hensby held the show together with considerable flair, conspicuous for his indefatigable energy, huge range of personas (crackpot tea lady a highlight), and a quite remarkable ability to think on his feet to hilarious effect, producing such gems as rhyming “Paris Hilton” to “stilton” (needs to eat some), having been prompted with
The Footlights should watch their back
“cheese” two seconds earlier and whilst playing blues on the guitar. Along with Mark Gardinier, these two patently most experienced of the group kept the show on the road when some of the games dragged slightly or if the impromptu sketches failed to take off. Generally, though, the performance was always exciting and often hilarious, perhaps most appealing for its fresh and unpretentious style and the fact they were all, clearly, loving it. The Footlights should watch their back.
Committee Smoker - Three Stars
Alcock Improv - Four Stars
Alexandra Reza
Posted on Saturday 13 October 2007
