Billy Watson: Sex, Drugs and Marriage

Turning up to a show call Sex, Drugs and Marriage you can pretty much hazard a guess at the material you’ll be exposed to, right? Wrong. Billy Watson has other ideas.  Having so insulted audiences in the days leading up to this performance – to the extent he was left pretty much devoid of a crowd – he’s decided to ditch the material and fill his hour with an improvised rant.

Nothing is sacred to this fiery-haired character; from his relationship with a voluptuous S&M-loving opera singer to his hatred of football fans, religion and of course the Fringe itself. While this could have been a chance for something more refreshing than the usual formulaic comedy that saturates festivals, it lacked any sort of cohesion and more than borders on being embittered. To such a degree that the modest crowd becomes bewildered and restless.

An irritating and aggressive heckler doesn’t help matters and only serves to throw him even further off-kilter just at the moment we spy a glimmer of a considered idea. There are a few laughs but they’re thin on the ground and you feel the decision to abandon his show destroys any chance Watson had of displaying his talent effectively. A bold attempt to try something different, although I’m curious to know what could have possibly been more offensive than this.