Simon Munnery: Standing Still

Like bowing to the Royal Box, this year’s Fringe has many comedians begin their shows with a tribute to Jeremy Corbyn. Maybe, that’s what you get when you fill a city with artists and lefties. But no one could accuse Simon Munnery of following trends, political or otherwise. And no-one else would begin their set by reciting Yeats while dressed in a jacket of cider cans. (The centre-left cannot hold…)

Munnery’s surrealism and politics have deeper roots than most, and this is something of an anniversary, celebrating 30 years at the Fringe. Thus jokes about common land and 17th century enclosure acts are sprinkled with a few old gags from previous shows.

We won’t ruin the surprises here, but for a comedian as relentlessly and religiously inventive as Munnery, returning to old material is something of a change of scene. In truth, the greatest hits only make his creativity more impressive – a reminder of how many ideas this man churns out. It’s impossible to tell who’s laughing out of recognition and who’s laughing just because it’s funny.

Everything turns absurd when Munnery looks at it closely enough, from capitalism to family life. One of his less heralded skills is how he takes off-putting words like "politics" and "Dadaism" and makes them enjoyable for everyone, through pure force of writing and enthusiasm. Standing Still ends with a dialogue between two skiing enthusiasts that was so funny I could barely breathe, but also oddly touching. It’s empathy through silliness – the true common land, regardless of politics.