Dag Sørås

Expectations loom high for the arrival of international comics to the Fringe. From northern Norway and as far from commercial comedy as it gets, Dag Sørås delivers his alternative and nihilistic set in an uncompromisingly opinionated manner. Unfortunately, it fails to engage. His take on contemporary politics is all too black-and-white, as jokes on world leaders' incompetence spray the room.

Though the comedian is a regular on the scene back home, with experience of performing in the English language—charmingly, with a strong accent from his native Narvik—his routine seems lazy and unprepared at times. When he indulges in long-winded political musings—his speciality—he runs into overload, leaving the audience wondering when he will move on. Such is the case with his fact-filled routine on Afghanistan, tearing to pieces the assumption that "supporting the troops" is the default behaviour of a good citizen.

True to the northern Scandinavian stereotype, he is dark and he knows it. Armed with a tendency towards harsh self-deprecation, many of his more successful jokes are made at his own expense, and serve to somewhat delay the sinking of the ship. Indeed, Sørås’s awkward approach to both his audience and himself seems to suit him well, in as far as he is something of a self-proclaimed misanthrope. The problem is that these moments of awkward confession don't always make for the finest comedy material, no matter how candid. In the end his manner, moody and nonchalant, leaves the audience at a loss.