Last Ham Standing

Cross-legged on the floor of a sun-lit Dean Village flat, it takes three attempts, and a convoluted two phone set-up to make contact. Despite the billed ease-of-use, it takes another couple of stops and starts for technology to yield to my unreasonable demands to comply. After several minutes of false starts and teetering on the edge of technological manslaughter Kevin MacMahon and Gavin Oates appear in all of their 1136 x 640 pixel glory. Just two thirds of a full Ham, as mentalist Colin McLeod is rather occupied being abroad, dapper and frighteningly successful for a 27-year-old from Bathgate.

We go back somewhat. During our first interview in the corner of a bustling German konditormesiter, a pair of glasses transcended their habitual position of dutiful sight-enhancing, and fulfilled their magical destiny, standing to attention on an unsuspecting chair, under the wave of Kevin’s fingers. Six months into their prestigious residency at The Stand, Glasgow, the three banditos are teetering perilously close to their third – and first full – run at the Fringe. After three years of hard work, sacrifice and unabashed silliness, the prospect of  August has brought their future into focus.

"Something has to happen this year. Last year we had good signs; we got The Stand, we got a radio thing that’s coming up, we got a Scottish comedy award nomination. If something doesn’t come from this Fringe, we’ll be really disappointed, and we’ll have to think about if we can continue in this shape", says Kevin, the Ham's resident magic man. 

There’s a solemnity to the proceedings this evening, presumably the result of the fun-sponging cocktail of discussing the inevitable future and the recent death of the highly influential Rik Mayall. Harking back to a March evening a packed-out Glasgow comedy festival gig, gripping my co-worker, wiping tears from my eyes and desperately trying to suck breath from the smog of uncontrollable giggling, I take a moment to remind myself it isn’t all just shits and giggles. Gav reminds me of businiesses and families - things that require just as much time, love and passion as their fledgling show.

"You know how it is, Vonny. We want a TV Show. We want to be selling out the big theatres. We want to take this and make it the new rock and roll. We can’t even describe how much we want this. It kind of hurts a wee bit."

This is crunch time.There are livelihoods at stake here. There are dreams.  

Every audience is testament to the careful alchemy behind each madcap night People laugh. People tell their friends. People come back - in home-made t-shirts of signature skits. And it hits you: this is no accident. Each chuckle is expertly engineered through months of writing, practice and dogged determination. The mentalism will astound you. Gav's gratuitous slapstick violence and rubbery-faced quirks will buckle you, but the illusions will stun you with narrative and inventiveness you just don't find outside of the Serious Magic™  world. Together, it’s not hard to see why the Hamsters have become the cult success story of the Scottish comedy scene, but something has to happen now. Something big.

"I have to do this." Gav syas. "We have to do this. This year. It has to work, because if it doesn’t, I don’t really want to think about it.”

Could this be the year? Kev enthusiastically reminds me of 'three's magical properties, amid laughter from Gav, but I can't help but think they might be right. There's no going back. It's that all or nothing moment.Get in on it now before they explode.Or vanish.