Reality and Stick it in My Party Hole, Q Gallery

Martin O'Connor's boutique performances demonstrate the strengths of Glasgay!: commissioning a confident and adventurous local artist, who works outside of the stereotypical ideas of queer entertainment, he plunges into the masculine crisis with his latest show.

Reality consists of three distinct personalities - a teenage wannabe celebrity, a soldier stuck in Afghanistan while his wife becomes a famous, and glamorous, activist, and a young father who struggles to remain irresponsible. Ranging from sardonic humour to eerie menace, O'Connor brings the characters to vivid, sympathetic life, imbuing their crises and anxieties with sensitive detail. From the soldier's long-distance relationship's inevitable decline to the wannabe's frustration at his grandmother's sudden ascent to fame, the characters lack the ability to control their lives, yet never succumb to despair. Their determination prevents the show from being maudlin, even when it is blatantly tragic, and allows O'Connor to find humour in uncomfortable places.

Distinctively Glaswegian, O'Connor locates his observations between compassion and satire. His X-Factor audition skit might be obvious, but he pitches his shallow hero between idiocy and sympathy. His characters are trapped in a world where reality is defined by a cynical and shallow media, or self-serving morality that doesn't consider the situation or people involved. Martin O'Connor is a complex artist, willing to challenge himself and his audience, and he is not afraid to leave uncomfortable conclusions even as he snaps back for the killer punch-line.

Glasseyed's Stick It In My Party Hole lacks cohesion. A weak opening of computer graphics and a mock-serious voice-over is partially redeemed by Sleep Dolly's manic monologues and deadpan electro tunes, only for the show to degenerate into a predictable structure of performance and video interludes. Far too many of the set-pieces wander around a simple joke and the kitsch aesthetic rapidly overwhelms the thin material.

Sleep Dolly does pull some laughs from her sexual and social frustrations, and the conceit of a bad house party offers bawdy humour and delicious embarrassments. Yet Party Hole fails to deliver, aiming at the obvious - kitsch reconstructions of Hammer Horror - or the easy - a video pastiche of 2 Unlimited. There are suggestions that Sleep Dolly is the product of a bad environment, but Party Hole never engages with a wider world, never seems to have a point or purpose, simply shambling through a series of tangentially related sketches.