Burnistoun Live at the Fringe

A roar of recognition greets the arrival on stage of each regular character from BBC Scotland's hit TV sketch show Burnistoun. Created by Glaswegian comics Iain Connell and Robert Florence, the show—which completed its last series in 2012—evidently remains dear to the appreciative audience. Sadly, the hour that follows is a poor advert for newcomers.

From a football manager-turned-marriage counsellor to inept "polis" officers, the sketches rarely move beyond their initial premises. There are some bravura performances, but the show as a whole never deviates from a particular well-worn sketch comedy format. The humour largely operates through misanthropy—almost every sketch revolves around an angry, shouty, amoral male character—and pushing mild taboos to elicit transgressive titters.

Over an hour, the misanthropy builds and reveals a few real errors of judgement. Casual references to loose female sexuality, disability and depression litter the script. One sketch, seeming at first to mock misogynistic children's clothing ranges, ultimately derives its only punchlines from listing sexist suggestions for slogans on girls' baby-grows.

In the closing sketch, that misanthropy is turned on the Fringe in general and the performers themselves. Casually dismissing the festival as either "arty-farty student fuckers" or "telly people making a quick buck", there's no question which category Connell and Florence fall into. That's the point: they provide a nostalgic glimpse of beloved characters for a packed crowd of mostly fans. For anyone else, it's a lazy, unreconstructed, outdated sketch show at a Fringe with many brilliantly original ones to choose from.