Wednesday was a day of ups and downs for standup Larry Dean. In the afternoon: a maiden nomination for the Edinburgh comedy award. Early evening: show derailed by a woman having an epileptic fit in the front row. Dean dealt with the incident as well as possible, but it disturbed his flow as the gig stopped, started and stopped again. At the end, I left with the impression of another solid and enjoyable set by the Glasgow man, but no advance on his previous work. On other days, he may make a stronger impact.
The show was intended, Dean tells us, to be a celebration of loved-up life with his Australian boyfriend. But that relationship ended just before the fringe, so – one hasty rewrite later – we get a set ranging across his childhood, family, sex life and recent breakup. Much feels familiar from previous shows: the blokey take on his homosexuality; his hoity-toity mum; jokes about his Catholicism. My heart didn’t exactly soar at the routine about masturbating in a public toilet while someone is pooing next door. Another, about fellating a slimmer with “excess skin”, is no more high-minded but comes with a choice word-picture (“I felt like one of those Victorian photographers …”) to recommend it.
This isn’t comedy distinguished by ideas, then – but there is probably no point expecting high-concept from a man who claims not to remember when he last read a book. There is still plenty to enjoy, though, from a standup with the popular touch and an easy swing to his style. The image of Dean rounding up EDL marchers with his libido, One Man and His Dog-style, will be hard to shake. The turns of phrase are vivid, too, as when he explains what he means by his dad’s “East-End-of-Glasgow look”, or says of New Zealand’s earthquakes, “I’m not used to floor weather.”
Characteristically from a feelgood act who – coarse content notwithstanding – has more smooth edges than sharp ones, Dean brings even the story of his recent breakup to a heartwarming conclusion. The ex-couple’s friendship is secure, apparently – and Dean will make plenty more friends with this brand of cheeky, chatty, all-smiles comedy.
•At Assembly Checkpoint, Edinburgh, until 26 August.
