Andrew Maxwell: This Is Ten Years From Now

As anyone who has seen Andrew Maxwell in his 14 years at the Fringe can testify, the laidback Irishman can definitely do ‘funny’. Indeed, catch him at Late and Live, Spank or any other late night cameo and this playful alter ego will almost certainly surface. Yet like any good artist, Maxwell also has the ability to change gears, to look further for his comedy edge. This year he once again emerges as a serious contender for the If.comedy award with a razor-sharp hour of social commentary disguised skilfully within two sprawling autobiographical stories.

First, Maxwell tells of a spiky gig at a high-security prison in Dublin, where he was drafted in to provide a spot of laughter-therapy: “You’re a lovely size for a hostage,” came the heckle from one welcoming inmate. Needless to say it proved a tricky gig, not least because, as Maxwell astutely observes, most comedy relies on a certain shock factor. And, well, it’s difficult to shock an assortment of arsonists, murderers and rapists.

Next Maxwell turns his attention to his recent activity in Northern-Ireland. As he gleefully accounted last year, the highlight of Maxwell’s 2007 was the moment he called Irish Prime Minister, Bertie Ahern a "motherfucker" live on Irish TV. Understandably, such behaviour carried its consequences, including a drunken offer from the IRA, who asked him (with some force) if he might fancy performing on Belfast’s infamous Shankle Rd. Maxwell duly agreed and the rest of the set is given over to the ensuing tale, complete with a cast of excessive, aggressive Ulster characters.

Growing up in inner-city Dublin, Maxwell seems to intimately understand the political ground he is covering. He has a simple but intelligent logic – “It’s all about being fierce” – and this is neatly weaved into his observations on Irish paramilitaries, London street crime and macho Americans.

The only complaint is that at times Maxwell seems unwilling to delve further into these fascinating stories and extract more of the political insight he initially promises. More than once he checks himself, as if convinced the audience don’t hear what he’s really got to say, and delves sideways into funny if slightly banal material on Ryanair and American culture. Maxwell may be right in assuming that not all his sell-out crowds want him to ‘get political,’ yet perhaps what he doesn’t realise is that if he allows himself to evolve, his audiences will almost certainly follow.