Reginald D Hunter: The Only Apple in the Garden of Eden and Niggas

Article by Becca Pottinger | 22 Aug 2009

Another year and another tenacious title. Not one to shy from controversy, Reginald D Hunter rather courts it, woos it and tries to stick his finger up its bum while it’s sleeping. Hunter’s slant comes from that of the outsider; the American with a ‘simple’ accent, the black guy from Georgia at the white, upper middle class, English dinner table. His delivery is calm, verging on lolloping - as far away from Jason Byrne as it might be possible to get.

This year's show rides along the same outrageous edge as all the others, with the small matter of Obama biting at its blaspheming heels. You get the impression that Hunter feels a sense of duty to discuss the change in government, but he doesn’t quite weave the political content into his other material in a manner that does either justice. An overly sombre political reflection at the end of the set seems incongruous, acting as a dampener on an otherwise wickedly entertaining hour.