Perhaps it's just something about portacabins. These temporary venues are all part of the Fringe's rich tapestry, but for a straightforward standup you need some seriously attention-grabbing material to offset the fact that your only decor is a drape that looks like it was supposed to have something more interesting superimposed upon it.
Jim Campbell has about 20 minutes of this cast-iron, ear-catching stuff. But that's it. The rest of his routines gradually grind down the audience’s enthusiasm until it starts to get a bit awkward.
The erudite Campbell—whose debut show, Nine Year-Old Man, did rather well last year—begins with some nice on-theme thoughts about the origins of numerous species, and our place among them. There’s a pleasingly dark gag about Casper the Friendly Ghost, and some intriguing ideas about culling great swathes of society, which isn’t something you hear on comedy stages very often.
But rather than run with this novel new direction—“a bit Hitlery,” he admits—the Essex-born comic then shifts to hackneyed topics: the EDL are idiots, The Bible shouldn’t be taken as gospel. It’s often less a show, more a well-meaning pub bore rambling on. He breaks this up with a decent audience participation idea, but it drags on far, far too long, and the ending is a shapeless mess.
One wonders why Campbell bothered bringing such a half-cocked hour to this unlovely shed, when he could have been cleaning up with that solid 20 on nicer stages back home. Second show syndrome strikes again.