Comedy

Paul Zerdin is in a league of his own. That he's the UK’s most accomplished and well-known ventriloquist is beyond doubt. What's most impressive about his latest show is how rich a canvas he creates from his honed skill. You can’t help but to be won over with this set which is not just polished but very well-constructed.
 
In flawlessly fast exchanges, Zerdin balances his confidence against the mischief of his puppets. They act up; he reins them in. He bickers with offstage voices, delivers a one-man duet, and at one point plays four characters, two of them supposedly inside a matchbox.
 
Both the characters and stand-alone sections benefit from his charm and comedic skills, and prove that when mastered, one signature talent can create an hour’s entertainment with ease. Zerdin is the subordinate star of his own show though: acting as the silly scamp to his straight man, original puppet Sam commands the audience’s affection. When Zerdin abandons Sam on stage, after challenging him to perform alone, you long for the puppet to defy reality and lift that oddly-shaped cloth head. Clearly Sam is the most developed character in the showcase, his minute gestures are perfect and give, dare I say it, the appearance of a genuine bond between man and puppet. Either Zerdin’s a bloody good actor as well as ventriloquist, or he occasionally thinks Sam is real, too.
 
Although it’s easy to see the similarity between the characters he brings on stage, from the hiccupping baby to filthy old Albert who’s put his hearing aid in the wrong orifice, Zerdin’s natural charm means this in no way hinders your experience. It’s also enjoyable to meet him, sans-puppet, when he reveals his pranks in everyday life, from pretending to be a talking lift to sabotaging sound checks in tech rehearsals.
 
If anything, the Zerdin experience is almost too slick to be jaw-dropping, but what it does do is invoke a precious, childish sense of joy. The conclusion is pure audience-gratifying magic.

Louise Ridley

Paul Zerdin: Sponge Fest – Underbelly, 6-30 August (not 17), 19:15