John Robins: Incredible Scenes!

Why are there not more bums on seats here?  Just because his name and face aren’t plastered over the town and telly, I should think.  John Robins might not have the biggest marketing budget to sell his shows, but this is exactly the type of act the Fringe is made for. Surely it’s all about seeing the less famous performer, the type who busts a gut to make sure we enjoy ourselves. The best acts will make it to the big venues soon enough, and how much more satisfying is it to catch them now?

It’s a wonderful thing, to see a man faced with such a small crowd roll with the punches without pausing for breath. And it’s a mark of a huge talent that it feels we’re in a capacity crowd, belly-laughing through this routine which covers celebrity pee and adorable friends, and includes a refreshing misogyny-bashing homily about decorated ladybits. His material is fantastic, his turns of phrase and mannerisms infectious. Girls would want to date him; boys would want to befriend him; and it’s a wonder that more people aren’t crammed in to be entertained.