It is comedy, Edinburgh, but not as we know it. Humour on the Fringe takes many forms, from stand-up to sketch, from quickfire punchline to epic storytelling, yet there is no one here quite like Edward Aczel. If the world is waiting for the ultimate anti-stand-up the wait is over. Quite how someone can be so hilarious without any actual jokes is nothing short of sheer genius.
From the moment the shabby fortysomething appears in shorts and T-shirt there is something perverse about him. While others opt for dynamic entrances, he tries three different intros, as if he has not prepared his show. And that is precisely what he comically claims, while blundering beautifully through his crumpled notes, drifting from the microphone and dropping props on the floor.
There are hints of Tommy Cooper, but Aczel takes fumbling, mumbling and bumbling beyond absurdity. A nearer comparison is American legend Andy Kaufman, whose gigs were closer to art happenings. The nearest thing to conventional structure here is a quiz and some deadpan non sequiturs regarding Tom Cruise and the Spanish Armada read from inky prompts on his wrist.
Proceedings close with a bizarre, bittersweet Charles Aznavour croon, performed in a flat monotone while the original version plays behind him. Aczel is definitely weird, possibly unhinged and clearly a cult in the making. Apparently he comes from a marketing background. He has certainly found a unique selling point here.
Until 24 August (0131 226 0000, www.edfringe.com)
Edward Aczel
Underbelly
Edinburgh Festival
