Venue: Wee Container 1 at Hoots @ Potterrow
Date and Time: Friday 21 August, 3.25pm
Ticket Price: Pay What You Can, starting at £3 (+£1.50 booking fee)
Rating: ★★★★ (4/5)
Reviewed by: Heather Gordon
Tucked into a compact, quirkier corner of the festival, the venue had the typical charm of a hidden indie gem. Despite the modest crowd, the atmosphere quickly changed when Davies emerged from the shadows and formally introduced himself. Any slight hesitation I had vanished as soon as his observational wit took over.
Davies set the tone of the performance from the get-go, focusing on the topic of embarrassment, perhaps one of the most quintessentially British and universally endured emotions.
The many quirks and anxieties of modern UK life anchored the entire performance, as Davies reflected on our collective shame over the recent revolving door of Prime Ministers before pivoting to a comical exploration of the new British pound notes, questioning the shift from prominent historical figures like Turing and Churchill to animals.
From this point, the show took a whimsical detour down an animal rabbit hole. Davies managed to craft comedy from quirky historical events, notably the ‘Beaver Drop of 1948’ (an American operation that parachuted 76 beavers into the wilderness to rebuild wetlands), the number of wolves currently residing in UK zoos and the fondness Brits seem to have for donkeys.
The intimate setting and smaller audience evolved into a major asset, allowing Davies to engage us directly. His crowd work was strong as he tested our knowledge of the statues in London’s Parliament Square, comically dissecting the political and historical divisions between them before delivering a genuinely insightful segment on Millicent Fawcett and the broader suffragist movement.
He then neatly wrapped things up by nodding to Warhammer, which also inspired the title of his show, revealing that its parent company has one of the highest-valued stocks on the UK market. He went on to ask us to reflect on what that means for us as a country. I, for one, was not too surprised given how mainstream video gaming and tabletop games have become of late (and am in favour of embracing all things ‘geeky’).
Davies’ humour is dry and pessimistic, but incredibly endearing, authentic and surprisingly informative. His pacing was excellent and the hour flowed smoothly from topic to topic, so much so that the show ended before I realised the time had passed.
The overarching theme of embarrassment carried well throughout, offering a sharp reflection on the socio-political realities for many of us. I even experienced my own mortifying moment when my phone rang mid-set (one of several casualties of a rushed day). Despite this faux pas, Davies handled it swiftly and expertly, turning it all into a bit of a joke in itself.
Ultimately, the entire evening served as a brilliant reminder of the importance of laughing your way through awkwardness and hardship. It was a release I didn’t realise I desperately needed, and one for which I was seriously grateful.
