SkinnyFest 3 - Andy Parsons

The British like nothing more than to moan. This is the premise for Fringe-veteran Andy Parsons' latest hour-long offering. It may sound old hat, but Parsons breathes new life into a tired topic. He could moan for Britain. And he does. The man's nasal, Cockney-sounding voice is perfect for moaning. It grates on the ears but tickles the funny bone. The laughs keep coming.

It's not all moan moan moan though. Parsons is a stand-up with such natural presence and confidence that he's happy to wade into the audience for material. He's quick-witted enough to turn most of what he finds to his advantage and if, by chance, he finds a baby being breastfed, it's comedy gold. Parsons' prepared material is equally as good though. Wonderfully crafted satire and political lampooning are peppered throughout, and he's not afraid to state the bleedin' obvious. Charles Clarke might be a sitting duck, but Parsons dispatches that duck with such razor-sharp cynicism that by the end it's a just a heap of bloodied feathers.

Parsons has achieved something important - moaning will never be the same again: it just got funny.