Paul Currie: The Sticky Bivouac
Prepare for unhinged nonsense and childish things
This article is from 2013.
From the Tony Law school of unhinged nonsense comes Paul Currie, dressed in a natty three-piece suit and tottering about in sweltering late-night conditions before a bamboozled but amused crowd. The first few minutes of the show are taken up with Currie just out of sight backstage as a long stick with a plastic hand on it emerges barely noticed from the darkness until it lands on some of his other props and, all-too inevitably, on the shiny head of a gent in the front-row. And things only deteriorate (sanity-wise) from there on in.
You have a choice as a crowd-member: go with the flow and have the time of your life or sit in agony as the clock staggers round to the finishing post, your spirit and faith in comedy truly spent. Fortunately, the vast majority in attendance are well up for it, and wails of appreciative delirium greet each ludicrous twist and fantastical turn of Currie’s over-abundant mind. A set-piece such as a mime to A-ha’s ‘Take on Me’ and Max’s introductory speech to Hart to Hart are nothing short of hysterical. If you’re in the mood for childish things, then dip your toe into Paul Currie’s Sticky Bivouac.
Pleasance Courtyard, 556 6550, until 26 Aug (not 13), 11pm, £8–£9.50 (£7.50–£8).