Ally Houston: Shandy

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There's a song stuck in my head that I do not want to be there. "I am Shandy, Shandy the clown," it goes. "Pick me up and throw me around." It's weird, dark and incredibly, jauntily catching. Quite who Shandy is, though, and why he has such an abusive relationship with his owner never really comes into full view over the course of this odd hour, shrouded always in dark wordy monologues and silly songs.

But really, clarity is not at all Houston's game here. Right from the off, with a short and deliberately bad standup set, Houston's aim seems to be to alientate his audience – to leave them as far behind him as he can. There's a fine line between brave and stupid. And, do you know what? I think he collapses just on the side of brave with this one.

Sure, there's plenty here that falls short. The whole clown thing, for starters, has been passé for years. And the obtusely long costume changes tend to puncture the dreamlike atmosphere. But it's saved by a well-constructed alternative world in which a man with a sweet Glaswegian voice can croon about terrible things; in which a long and ridiculous monologue about a clown's origins can take on the veneer of believability thanks to tight and imaginative writing. Years from now, Houston might be doing stuff that makes more sense. But he'll have cut his teeth doing odd, inventive work.