Fred Cooke: Standing, Tilted

If you enter Fred Cooke's latest Fringe show to find the man himself standing in the corner with a manic grin, ushering you into the front row, promising from the bottom of his heart that he won't pick on you... don't believe him. The awkward, close-up discomfort he causes for certain members of the audience is central to much of the show's humour, though it will be up to that same audience whether or not such emphasis is justified. Let's just say if you volunteer to get up on stage for one of Cooke's uniquely lopsided quizzes, prepare for your personal space to be invaded in an unexpected fashion.

Fred Cooke: Standing, Tilted also demonstrates the danger of adding a musical dimension to a standup show. While his spoken word routines, though patchy, are sharp and imaginative, the segments he performs on guitar and electric piano fail in both idea and execution, going on too long and dragging out jokes that were rarely all that funny to begin with. The remainder of the Irish comic's set seems to take a delight in creepy overenthusiasm, balancing neurotic self-deprecation that, while intermittently entertaining, grows wearisome before long. His best material is observational, commenting most memorably on the Irish character and his own misadventures in the comedy business, but there are long gaps between such highlights.

Standing, Tilted will likely raise a few laughs, but also a few yawns, and all the while audiences will be on their guard against the possibility of surreal humiliation.