Daphne's Second Show

It’s almost as much fun watching the audience at Daphne’s second show, the helpfully titled Daphne’s Second Show, as it is watching the stage. Almost.

Phil Wang, Jason Forbes and George Fouracres spin out such a rich and varied collection of gags, nutters and wasps here that it sets off different people at different times: we are popcorn in their comedy microwave. One bloke loses it so hard and so weirdly—squeaks, honks, you name it—during their freakish Frasier pastiche that you genuinely fear for his health. Death by Daphne: there are worse ways to go.

It’s such a fine line between stupid and clever, as a great movie idiot once so wisely observed, and Daphne straddle it like Willy Wonka straddles his tiny horse in the trio’s 12 Years a Slave-style exposé of chocolate factory working conditions. No second-show syndrome here (after much acclaim for last year’s debut), as they’ve clearly been working bloody hard. The breadth of brilliantly daft concepts takes the breath away; literally, for some observers. True, they often fall back on gags about their varied ethnicities too, but, hey, if you’ve got it, taunt it.

If the ideas are great, the performances match them, particularly Fouracres’ sublime arsenal of sinister voices, and some impressively hearty singing. Quite a rush. As the audience stagger out afterwards there’s a noticeable camaraderie, like the end of a rave, what with all that serotonin flying about. It’s no doubt a popular Courtyard spectacle already: here come the Daphne casualties.