Older standups often hark back to the golden days of alternative comedy, when true eccentrics roamed the stages. People like Frank Sidebottom, aka Chris Sievey, with his huge papier mâché head, puppet sidekick and tinny pop dreams. They don’t make them like that anymore.
Or do they; could this be the Fringe where vast fake faces rule? One of the Traverse’s highlights has a gorgeous papier-mâché-headed surprise ending. Spencer Jones starts with one. And now here’s Sam Eley, aka Basil Crumbwick, one of the finest comic creations for years. Crumbwick is incredible, a comic book rogue made flesh, with his lonely islands of toilet-rug hair and permanently angry everything-else. For a caricature, he feels oddly realistic.
Now, this would be funny anyway, for a while, but Eley has put the hours in, and written a tremendous show. From weird bin obsessions to his self-help book, almost every line elicits roars, often from different pockets of the room; always a sign that it’s working on several levels. Basil rails at the modern world, berates his poor neighbour (“the rat!”) but also exudes a curious sadness.
He’s the anti-Sidebottom, really, full of impotent frustration where Frank was joyously optimistic; a brilliantly hideous mirror of the modern world. This is – still – what the Edinburgh Fringe is all about.
Sam Eley is Basil Crumbwick: Soul Sewage, Monkey Barrel Comedy, until 30 Aug (not 18), 11.25pm