Edinburgh Fringe Reviews

Day 1

SINGIN’ I’M NO A BILLY, HE’S A TIM

(EICC, 150 Morrison Street)*****

While England burns with pogroms that dare not speak their name, Des Dillon’s sharply written comedy addresses Scotland’s poisonous sectarian bigotry, as played out through an Old Firm derby.

Celtic fan Timmy (Jade McDonald) and Rangers fan Billie (Dionne Frati) are banged up together in a Glasgow nick and reliant on their feckless partners to place a bet on the match, hoping that the winnings will pay their fines and secure their release.

As the hours tick by, the women threaten to come to blows, until they are separated by jailer Harriet who has few pressing concerns of her own.

All three cast members are in excellent form, delivering Dillon’s verbal jabs in all their acerbic glory; Stephen Cafferty’s unfussy direction maintains the momentum.

As the flyer suggests, it’s a play that has a message for other conflict zones, but personally, I revelled in its Scottishness.

Dillon’s rich ear for language and brutal honesty about his country’s internal divisions explain why this show has survived for two decades. That, and a plentiful supply of laughter.

This was my Fringe opener for the year, and unlike the Celts and the Gers, I came out a winner.

(This all-female version alternates with a version in which two men play the prisoners).

Tickets here

DON’T TELL OUR BOSSES (BAILEY SWINNEY/RICKY SIM)

THE STAND, 28 YORK PLACE

Ricky Sim ***/Bailey Swilley ****

This is effectively two stand up shows, linked by the common theme of hating your job.

In the case of Ricky Sim, the self proclaimed office ‘Gaysian’ in a US/Japanese bank, this involves wondering why his preppy colleague Grayson keeps winning promotion instead of him; for Bailey Swinney, it’s about drowning in work (and sexual harrassment) at a New York lads’ mag.

Sim’s story is fluent, and at its most amusing when he regales us with tales of gay sex gone wrong.

Swilley sweeps through her story with winning charm and self awareness - not to mention a joyously revolting revelation involving a fully digested latte and a brown paper bag.

Overall? A rude, crude and funny double header.

Tickets here