This is Thomas Nelstrop’s Fringe debut, and he seems eager to display as many of his skills as possible – most of them impressively. Nelstrop puts on a pretty breathless 55 minutes as he takes us through what feels like several dozen of his inventions, all based on the many and varied types of people to be found at a music festival. There’s a slimy traffic reporter, a sleazy rock singer, a festival-goer who seems to have special needs, and many more – some funny, others less so. Over the course of his show, he sings, dances, does impressions, and holds conversations with his recorded self on an elaborate backing track. He’s got a clever way of involving one lucky audience member in his music, but other attempts at audience interaction fall a bit flat.
The jokes come plentifully, and Nelstrop has a smooth, confident delivery. But it’s a scattergun approach: a few gags hit their mark, but many others disappear into the ether, leaving you feeling either a bit let down or simply bewildered.
Nelstrop's strengths, though, lie in his musical impersonations, and there are lots of them: a butter-obsessed John Lydon, a mockney Damon Albarn, and a Jools Holland who seems about to turn into Michael Caine. He’s a good guitarist, and has a nifty way of sending up musical styles. But it ends up feeling as though Nelstrop’s festival idea is underused, and simply an excuse to wheel out his impressions – good though they are. The show brings plenty of smiles, fewer laughs, but also the feeling of a wasted opportunity.