Have you ever had the (mis)fortune of someone rabbiting on about a show, and all its glory, at a time most inconvenient for you?
Say, a working summer, where what little spare time you have is spent staring a TV screen or the ceiling, lamenting the short-lived freedom before you return to work? Or perhaps a festival-ridden summer where you want to see everything, but can’t. Or both! Yeah, that was last summer. I could have killed.
Last year, the puppets tackled superheroes; this year, crime. It sounded silly then, and this year no less, but I obliged and dutifully followed.
And I can confirm, it is indeed a very silly show. One tartan man (hidden) and his two sock-compadres embark on a journey through the detectives of old towards a bank heist, with a few jingles and “gangsters” on the way.
The one thing it didn’t really succeed on, and for the kind of show it is perhaps it’s too minor a point to matter, was the plot (for want of a better word). It wanders and weaves its way towards the ‘final act’, but because of the tangents and half-finished skits preceding it, you’re not necessarily aware of the grand finale when it does arrive.
All in all, it was a fun hour. A few gags didn’t quite land, and the audience suggested some really…odd improv subjects (Cadfael, for example, and an arrest situation with Jimmy Savile and Paul Daniels), but he muscled on like a tartan trooper.
‘Minging Detectives‘, Sportmans, Teviot