Last year, Julian Fox came to the Fringe extolling the virtues of the Seattle Coffee Company in speech and song. This year, his disordered obsession is with Gatwick airport. It's the biggest single-runway airport in the world, he chants in the first song, a 1980s electronica number accompanied by stiff Kraut-rock dance movements. It takes six hours to walk around its perimeter fence, he informs us later, reading from postcards he wrote along the way.
Fox's shows shouldn't work at all. Chosen subject aside, they change little from one to the next, offering a bizarre scrapbook of geeky facts, choppily edited video diaries, tinder-dry humour and bedroom indie tunes. What in other hands might be bruisingly dull, however, here proves engrossing, endearing and wholly entertaining. This is largely down to Fox's humble, bumbling persona, the way his careful, flat voice communicates such tenderness and wonder for the world around him. When he compares the Gatwick terminal link train with London's Docklands Light Railway, describes a couple in a diner failing to communicate and informs us that if we would like to find out more about Judaism, we might visit jewfaq.org, he does so with the earnestness of a child, and the surprise of a grown-up who can't quite believe he's on stage being stared at by strangers. It's a winning combination.
· Until August 30. Box office: 0131-556 6550.
