Chris McCausland: Big Time

It is, with very good reason, generally regarded as somewhat unreasonable to write about technical glitches on a preview night. Generally, but not always: when the power cuts out and both audience and comedian find themselves in the dark, it is the first time in 58 minutes that McCausland's blindness becomes at all relevant. The Liverpudlian delivers a killer line which not only brings the house down, but puts the seal on a performance which showcases McCausland's strong sense of timing and comic delivery.

Much less an off-the-cuff improviser than a crafter of monologues, McCausland's strength is in the way he spins well-wrought narratives. They're hewn from lyrical word choice and mellifluous delivery. They're nicely paced, ebbing and flowing towards well-worked crescendos. Some don't come off quite right, but it's a spotty lack of polish which, no doubt, will buff to a shine after a couple of performances.

Sadly, though, the material is pretty flimsy. McCausland gives it his best shot, but there's only so much left in stories about fridges, flights and food that hasn't already been picked over by countless other comedians. Being kind, one might call it gentle humour; at times though, it's plain bland. This certainly isn't a show full of big ideas, despite a lacklustre attempt to weave in a theme based around Einstein's theory of relativity. The Fringe isn't short on comics purporting to solve the riddles of the universe. Less common are those who can carry a performance even in a blackout.