Craig Hill: Jock's Trap
Bitchy banter and camp cruelty
This article is from 2012.
Craig Hill either is your bag or he isn’t. If, in the first spoken line of the show -- after the thrusting Madonna dance routine – you’re laughing uproariously at the mere implication of the word bum (as a verb), then you’re in the former camp. If not, things aren’t going to get better over the coming hour.
In Craig Hill’s world, all grannies keep budgies, all gay men are bitchy, aggressively camp and anally fixated, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, worse than being from Kirkcaldy. Anywhere that an audience member hails from is either a lesser degree of Kirkcaldy-ness and therefore to be derided, or ‘very well-to-do’ and therefore also to be derided. The show is a directionless hour of inconsequential patter and picking on hapless latecomers, front-rowers and overexcited squealers. But meandering it is not, for Hill is a seasoned veteran ever-ready with a suitably barbed or filthy – if not unpredictable – quip.
If your regular comics aren’t stretching the untold comic potential of the word ‘dick’ quite far enough, and it’s been a while since you laughed at someone’s hairstyle, head along – just don’t say we didn’t warn you.
Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 27 Aug (not 13, 20), 7.30pm, £12.50--£14.50 (£11--£13).