‘Crystal Unclear: An Improvised Séance’ review

‘Full of intelligence and bright humour, as well as an infectious enjoyment, Shellshock! know how to make you laugh, and they do that very, very well’

The beauty of improv is that nothing is prescribed. It occupies a unique position in the realm of theatre in that it is one of the only formats where you are watching a show be created in front of you. Completely unlike a standard theatre show, where the success of a show often comes down to the rehearsal process, with improv, it is all dependent on the performers in that split second. This is enough to phase anyone, however when Shellshock! Improv comedy troupe debuted their Edinburgh Fringe preview show yesterday, it became clear that this talented bunch of actors were more than equipped to handle it. Shellshock!’s fringe show runs in a long-form format: aside from some shorter introductions at the beginning, the majority of the show is focused on showing us the ‘life’ of an individual. Led by Henry Cole, acting as a medium and interim between audience and performer, what followed was a raucously enjoyable hour. 

Cole himself might have been born on stage, such is his naturality. He has an instant command of the audience, and despite not being in the show as an improviser, manages to garner laughs without really trying. His well-timed sarcastic one-liners are often just as funny as the sketches themselves. Props must also be given to Cole, as when a scene doesn’t land as well as it could it is up to him to rescue the energy; this is something he does admirably, quick to throw in a new prompt or a different part of the game. 

The performers themselves were truly fascinating to watch. Opening with a shorter sketch, where the performers would rotate in and out in groups of two, creating sketches on the fly inspired by the pair before them, the troupe’s trust and chemistry shines. Ben Bradley’s riff on a pyramid scheme was a sketch so layered it was almost impossible to believe it was improvised, and had me giggling away in the back row, and a sketch around two near retirees still working at Amazon was pertinent and funny. 

The troupe then moved on to a sketch surrounding bodies and voices - two actors would act, but couldn’t speak, and two more would act as their disembodied voices. This may have been my favourite moment of the night: I am still thinking about Ben Bradley’s pun on ‘one-one’ to ‘tutu’ (you had to be there), and Beckett Yorke’s physicality in response was impressive. 

Cole then moved us on to the bulk of the performance: a group of spirits telling the whole life of ‘Thomas’ whose existence in that performance included a strangely named cat, odd-sized shoes, a pelican delivery service, and a self-referential diary. The diary skits showed improv at its very best: Kate Walsh’s sketch opposite Chris Angus as a father and a son, when the son narrates everything to his diary (Dear Diary, someone is knocking on my door, one second), was a joy to see continued throughout the show.

Equally, Sophie Partis as a dictatorial ruler who seeks to replace her cat with a tortoise - along with matching statue - was brilliant. Partis’ sketches with Bradley were also an audience favourite - from Bradley’s launch into song, to Partis’ clever physical comedy with a gangplank, at no point did you know what would happen next. Whilst occasionally the scenes could seem to stray into convolution, they were always brought back with ease. Yicong Hui’s fabulous sketch with Walsh emphasised this quickness - me personally, I would not know what to do if a pelican stole my microphone in the middle of a news broadcast, but Hui certainly does. I also enjoyed the political nuances to some of the sketches - McCarron’s jab at the state of the NHS was a particular favourite. 

Bolstered by a cast clearly exuding talent and passion, the show is a fabulous display of improv comedy, only aided by Eve Sherratt-Cross’s smooth lighting and and sound. Full of intelligence and bright humour, as well as an infectious enjoyment, Shellshock! know how to make you laugh, and they do that very, very well. 

By Lottie Roddis.