Our lasting impression of Tom Shillue comes in the form of his strongest, perhaps briefest, bit. It has to do with his daughter's response to a playground parent objecting to make-believe guns. Here is Shillue through and through: a nice dad who's able to pull the inherent humour of youth into his work.
It is when he approaches his own youth, however, that his show changes entirely. His storytelling is polished and finessed –evidenced by the coveted spots he's landed on The Moth and NPR's This American Life. But while punctuated by funny moments, Impossible doesn't truly feel like straight comedy.
Which isn't to say that we've wasted our time. Shillue's four stories weave through a gentle youth spent in Boston's rural suburbs, and, eventually, 1980s New York. When taken as spoken word or storytelling, Impossible's charm outweighs its almost oppressive fluffiness. This hour is about as wholesome Fringe comedy gets, and what it lacks in edginess it makes up for in a refreshingly hypnotic pace.
This can't distract from that fact that Impossible would have benefitted hugely from rebranding, and comedy-seekers may leave Shillue's hour feeling short-changed. It's hard to reconcile the success of uber-friendly, narration-heavy comedians like David O'Doherty with Shilluie's tame orator style. Shillue could do with the type of reading/comedy hybrid Fringe shows David Sedaris and BJ Novak have been taking on. Though it's not hard-hitting stand-up, Shillue's low-key energy could shine given the right context.