Jin Hao Li Pleasance Courtyard ★★★★
Jin Hao Li was born in China, raised in Singapore and studied English at a Scottish university. So it’s perhaps not surprising that, in drawing on so many cultural sources, his brand of comedy should be so singular.
Swimming in a Submarine, his debut Fringe show, is a deftly constructed hour in which Li mixes surreal invention, zinging one-liners, callbacks, hokey rap and some rather disconcerting audience interaction.
He certainly knows how to make an impression. He comes on stage to loud metal music but then speaks softly – which forms a great contrast with those moments when he suddenly lurches into the front row to demand their opinion on something.
At first his act may appear to be clever wordplay and delayed punchlines - “When my grandad passed” [beat] “his driving test” - but then he gradually constructs his tall tales, built around his three childhood dreams and three nightmares.
The stories include a spider and an insect sharing a love of architecture, the potential siblings Li lost in his father’s ejaculate when he was conceived (given remembrance in a very good running gag), wanting to be in the Japanese mafia, and the ex-girlfriend who was a ghost.
There are elements that don’t appear to link with anything else in the show and it loses momentum in the last 10 minutes, but Li is in command throughout and his is a distinctive new voice in comedy.
Sian Davies Laughing Horse @ City Café ★★★
The tenth anniversary of Sian Davies’ wedding has just passed – but then so has the seventh anniversary of her divorce. It’s a grabber of an intro, drily delivered and neatly setting up Band of Gold, her latest hour of observational comedy.
Davies looks at her own life to ruminate on the choices we make and the errors of judgement we have to live with. But she’s a positive soul, preferring to own her mistakes, even including the naff tattoo she had on an 18-30 holiday some years ago.
And then there’s the short-lived marriage, about which she’s more waspish. But at least there’s fun to be had, she says, in wondering where her ex-wife is now - until she finds out the location for her former partner's second honeymoon. (The show's title, by the way, is a nod to the song of the same title, often played at weddings but the lyrics of which are anything but loved up, as Davies gleefully points out.)
Along the way Davies talks about her working-class family - some of whom have a fractious relationship with public transport - losing her middle-class in-laws in the divorce, mental health and accidentally becoming a dog owner.
Davies has a great rapport with the audience - and clearly likes guying men of a certain age - and has some smart observations to make about lesbian life, families and relationships.
It’s an entertaining hour and one that ends with a short video which, while cleverly pulling the show’s strands together, means it ends with a fizzle rather than a bang.
