Carnival des Phénomènes

For ten pounds, four hours of entertainment is an affordable complement to a night out with friends, and the underground Gilded Balloon venue where these late-night shenanigans are held is a comfortable and intimate place with its own bar. Acts change every night, and are tailored to be diverse on any given evening, but are weighted towards improv and stand-up comedy.

The problem with Carnival des Phénomènes is it’s a shamefully badly-organised show that gives off no sense of commitment or respect towards its paying audiences. In contrast to the four hour duration billed on the Gilded Balloon blackboard, this lasted two hours and ten minutes on the night I saw it, and many of the sketches felt rushed and only just functional, as if the performers were roped into doing this at the last minute and had friends waiting outside to catch up with.

Particularly annoying was headlining act Sammy J, who, despite his seemingly sunny temperament, stayed on stage for a most underwhelming five minutes, before the baffled compère—now drunker than anyone in the audience—nonetheless capped the evening by boisterously encouraging us to recommend the show to our friends.

I can’t imagine that any of the 20 people left in there by that point will be very obliging. In all there were five acts, each lasting up to 20 minutes: the Oxford Imps, Craig Campbell, hula hoop artist Miss Delilah, the (Edinburgh) Improverts, and our ephemeral Sammy J. It was a decent enough lo-fi line-up of comics who generally seemed to know how to amuse but weren't feeling motivated to do so on this particular evening. And quite how the show’s exotic title reflects what’s on display is deeply mysterious. Carnival des Phénomènes’ joke is on you. For the same price range you’d be better off going to see Spank, or for double the money you could see the most sophisticated variety show on the Fringe, La Clique.