Will Franken, Kendal, Hebden Bridge & Castlebar
Being compared to the late Robin Williams might not seem like the hippest of accolades, but if you can shift from your mind the image of umpteen saccharine movies and remember the maverick style of Williams’s club stand-up, you’ll see a connection with the work of Will Franken. Like Williams, Franken has a mind that apparently operates at a phenomenal speed. His shows are made up of a dizzying number of vignettes, linked by hysterical non-sequiturs and featuring an array of ridiculous voices. But whereas Williams would often shy away from pointed material in favour of crowdpleasing, Franken’s stuff has a grumpier, more overtly polemical undercurrent. Underneath the wacky characters, there are takedowns of corporate speak and the evils of a materialistic culture. And yet you never feel as if you’re being lectured to – Franken’s all-out comic attack is such an assault on the senses that you just find yourself collapsing in giggles.
David Trent, Andover, London & Hitchin
David Trent is not a naturally showbizzy figure. In fact, he looks like what he is: a chubby ex-teacher who spends far too much time in his bedroom. But, like friend and frequent collaborator Nick Helm, Trent’s an unglamorous guy whose live work has a real sense of spectacle. It’s an eclectic riot of sound and vision, as Trent splices together odd TV clips and music videos, backed by a loud indie rock soundtrack and overlaid with his own comic editorialising. What he loves doing is exposing the absurdity of the material he obsessively collects, relentlessly mocking the vacuities of minor celebrities and the pretensions of directors. Essentially, he’s like a magpie who can’t get enough of pop culture, but can’t stop taking the piss. The same sensibility comes through in his current series of online videos, Totally Trented, a gloriously committed send-up of the irritating vogue for gormlessly unfunny internet pranksters.
The Lights, Andover, Sun; The Good Ship, NW6, Mon; The Market Theatre, Hitchin, Thu
Harriet Kemsley, London
Harriet Kemsley manages to articulate a certain kind of nervous angst that seems common to people in her twentysomething generation. She’s growing out of consequence-free adolescence, searching for commitment and meaning in her life, but finds herself constantly let down by her own gawky foibles. It’s a package that’s sure to have lots of her peers nodding along, all performed with a breathy, headrushy delivery that makes it seem as if she’s gabbling away in spite of herself. While you get the feeling that she’s still feeling her way into the craft of stand-up, she’s got an attitude that’s relatively rare to see on the circuit. Like many fellow up-and-comers, she’s presently refining her club sets into a debut hour for the Edinburgh fringe. There will be plenty of comics angling for a big break, typically these days symbolised by a nomination for the best newcomer award – and Kemsley feels like a strong contender.
