Mick Sergeant: Ah Shit! It's Mick Sergeant

Mick Sergeant used to build ships. Vocationally and spiritually, Mick is a ship-builder throughout every fibre of his lanky, moustachioed frame. Unfortunately for Mick, the decline of the maritime manufacturing industry in the Tyne and Weir area he calls home has meant that he has been redundant for over ten years. A broken man denied his calling, his wife has left him and he's embarked on a motivational speaking tour to lift his spirits, and share some of his hard-earned wisdom.

It's a fine conceit, and despite some evident debts to a certain Mr Partridge, it works well. Mick's demons return to haunt him throughout the course of his routine, and a furious stream of consciousness frequently interrupts his performance. Ex-wife Donna has moved in with a chemist, and Mick's various efforts to find employment inevitably display his latent, impotent rage at this fact. The audience are unreservedly subjected to this. A shy North American observer is forced to count Mick's press-ups, and the crowd at large are treated to a brutally inept piece of short erotic fiction detailing a sexual encounter with a 'fine office lass.'

British character comedy has always focused on Schadenfreude; the runaway success of Ricky Gervais' and Steve Coogan's creations are easy testament to this. Mick Sergeant functions perfectly well in this tradition. There's an affecting touch at the end of the performance too – Mick sits outside in the pounding rain, hunched and clutching a boxed ribena. “Go on – get out into the rain” he clamours as we file into the unsurprisingly awful Fringe weather. It's a well observed, touching addendum that suggests bigger things to come for the hard-done-by performer.