Boris: World King

Boris Johnson wants to win the Foster's Comedy Award. At least, David Benson's send-up of the mop-haired Tory does, in this raucous pseudo-autobiographical comedy about his life and times. Not content with being a panel show regular and landing the Mayor of London gig, BoJo sets his sights on becoming a hit at the Fringe and ultimately, you know, king of the world.

Benson blends broad comedy with cartoonish social satire to skewer the politician's tactic of using buffoonery to distract from personal bigotry and his party's economic policies. We're taken through an amusing pastiche of Johnson's Etonian success as a Shakespearean actor, the riotous excesses of the Bullingdon club at Oxford, and more contemporary controversies during his time in government.

The show-within-a-show set-up allows for plenty of farcical fun, as Johnson fumbles with the tech and bumbles the order of the scenes – he and his stern “director” attempting to win our hearts and minds but ending up accidentally revealing a darker side to the likeable, clownish persona.

It's not especially astute stuff – gags centre around a Boris bike too big for the stage, and Johnson's expensive, wasted education – but Benson does a passable enough impression, and has the charisma to bring his audience onboard for the show's interactive elements. The act seems pitched to appeal to Jonson's ideological opponents, but avoids a rigorous a critique of the conservatives that might alienate sections of its audience, meaning it ultimately lacks purpose.