The more likeable of Scottish comedian Paul Sneddon’s two personas, Vladimir McTavish presents this loosely themed wander through Scotland's cultural history. In fact, so charismatic and genial is the grizzled Sneddon that one wonders why his routine needs to be delivered through the filter of a stage name.
Following on from last year’s satirical rundown of the greatest Scots of all time, An Idiot’s Guide To Whisky is an assemblage of the freshest stock in Sneddon’s comic inventory, bound up in an edifying smattering of whisky facts. Earnest and knowledgeable, he is utterly at ease with his source material. When his vignettes are flowing freely, he is an impressive act. Simple, too – no need for gimmicks or crutches here, only some crude Powerpoint slides and a table full of portentous bottles.
His whisky-sodden shtick has drawn a loyal following in Scotland and abroad, and an impressive extra-curricular CV has ensconced him alongside Scotland’s national drink as a recognisable—and nicely aged—cultural export. However, he does not quite hit the top note at the conference-room trappings of the Stand’s temporary Fringe accommodation, not helped by a typical opening-weekend crowd, who were curious though largely uninvolved.
This happens despite the healthy dollop of free firewater being handed out, along with a generous helping of some of Sneddon’s best material. Ever the consummate professional, Sneddon continues to expound, and the pathos of his tribute to Scotland’s self-destructive drink problem draws appreciative noises by the time his musical coda arrives.