All comedians need an identifier: a visual cue by which the audience will remember them and, hopefully, tell others to go see their show. Few have one better than Patrick and Hugo McPherson aka Pear. When it comes to sketch comedy, you’ll struggle to find two more instantly recognisable performers than these 6ft 7in identical twins.
But while twindom provides a good tagline and all the requisite gags about how, actually, they met at uni and their triplet Emmanuel keeps failing his audition to join their act, the Pear pair get most of their fun out of totally dismantling the expectations placed upon them as twins. Throughout the show, they get up close and personal in one another’s space, going so far as to play lovers. The brothers clearly revel in knowing that the audience will find these subversive moments even more funny because of their shared DNA.
Staples of the Edinburgh Fringe, Pear are back at the Soho Theatre with Phobia, a rambunctious, light-hearted hour of sketch and silliness. The premise (that term is used pretty loosely here) is that Pear have had enough of trivial sketch comedy, and want to shift their attention to making more quote-unquote powerful work. So, determined to start small, Pear are going to end fear once and for all. Referencing their Soho Theatre forefathers, they declare: “This is what Fleabag did for women. This is what Baby Reindeer did for… pubs?”
The fear plot is the perfect catalyst for the kind of improvised audience interaction moments the siblings feel most comfortable doing. Early on, one audience member is given a party popper to set off in the show whenever they feel things are at their most intense high. Another receives a set of maracas. Props fly through the air, adding to the chaotic student comedy night environment, and the audience howls with laughter.
The tangential link to fear barely extends to the sketches, which hardly matters. The strongest work comes right up top, with Patrick and Hugo playing a set of German border security officers with tiny plastic hands jutting out of their sleeves. As the duo frisk one another with said tiny plastic hands, one revealing a tiny plastic gun, it’s a display of exactly the kind of physical comedy at which they excel. One sketch between the US president and his overfamiliar, neck-kissing FBI agent is another highlight; likewise, a short skit in which the pair don neck braces and stiffly dance at the InjuryLawyers4U disco.
At times, there’s so much focus on the raucous use of props and sound cues that the sketch writing itself takes a backseat. The ideas are there, but they need parcelling out and fine-tuning through further performance in front of an audience. Many of the sketches almost stop mid-scene; were it not for the blackouts that end each vignette, I’m not sure I would have known when to clap or laugh. But you can chalk this down to the show being so early in its run. By the time it makes it to Edinburgh this August, it’ll surely be a hit.
Pear’s ‘Phobia’ is on at Soho Theatre until 3 June; tickets here
