Stephen Carlin: The Podium of Unconditional Surrender

Stephen Carlin has built up a reputation as a capable comedic talent with a fine line in charming pedantry. Unfortunately, cooped-up in what he calls "a poky little room" at The Stand 4, he suffocates.

Performing in a side chamber that could accommodate an audience of 40 if they were prepared to become rather intimate, tonight Carlin faces a quarter of that number. At the start of the show, he says that he likes to move around on stage and feels constricted by the podium offered him, which is roughly the size of a lift. While it must be said that coping with tough conditions is all part of the Fringe, there is a strong sense that his act is hamstrung by its surroundings.

Carlin bases his standup around deconstructing everyday announcements and sayings to reveal the strange statements beneath. This is a solid technique but relies heavily on drawing the audience in to share his attitudes. Sadly, he never quite manages to do this. His jokes are a factor—one serial offender is material about Ryanair being cheap and cheerless—but his heart doesn't seem to be in it. One gag about the British mentality, summarised as apathy and ambivalence, becomes particularly unfortunate as the audience fails to respond.

However, Carlin is clearly talented and there are flashes of some rare wit here. On this evidence, it's probably worth seeing him if you get the chance – but not this Fringe, and not in that poky room.