London

In ‘Jesus: the Guantanamo Years’ (at the Underbelly, pictured) Christ returns to earth and gets banged up in Camp Delta when he informs US immigration officials he’s a religious martyr on a mission from God. It’s a neat enough concept, but Irishman Abie Philbin Bowman converts it into a comic monologue where satirical comment takes second place to the humour of domestic sitcom. God’s an old-fashioned dad and Jesus writes home to mum urging her to go out and finally get laid. Entertaining stuff, but not calculated to set the 2006 Edinburgh Fringe on fire.

Jim Jeffries (an Aussie now resident in Manchester, also at the Underbelly) has called his new stand-up show ‘The Second Coming’, though that’s just an in-joke because his previous show was about pornography. It’s been said that Jeffries has the ability to turn filth into an art form. If so, he seems to have lost the knack. It’s not the subject matter – tit wanks, vagina sizes, licking out an anus – that’s depressing. It’s the impression that he’ll say anything for effect. A simile comparing women with public toilets qualifies him for immediate castration. Feature continues

American stand-up Doug Stanhope, whose reputation for saying the unsayable has bred suggestions he must be hopelessly depraved, dishes out any amount of controversial material too. He makes distinctly un-PC comments about child abuse and porn. He delivers a graphic account of a no-holds-barred sex session fuelled by drink and drugs. Yet none of it is actually offensive. This is partly because Stanhope possesses a range of stunningly effective stand-up skills and a talent for subtle verbal phrasing. More importantly, he speaks out not only about sex and drugs and so-called perversions, but also about social and political hypocrisy. And his rants command attention because he clearly means every single thing he says.

Stanhope comes across as a disturbed soul, compelled to talk almost despite himself. Of course, that could be a pose. So, too, could his lament that he’s 39 and running out of ideas for ways of having fun. But his profound discontent with knee-jerk morality blazes away below each and every remark or observation. If there’s a danger, it’s that his overall message could be construed as a call to abandon all moral values. That’s a risk worth taking in order to have unthinking attitudes so thoroughly challenged. Stanhope will almost certainly play London once his run here at the George Square Theatre is over. Watch this space.

Two English comedians who are less likely to excite media interest but deserve unstinting praise for their Edinburgh shows are Pete Cain and Nick Doody. In ‘The Idea Hunter’ (Pleasance Below) Cain rightly identifies overpopulation as a crucial global issue. He proposes, in calm and measured tones, an obvious solution – kill large numbers of people. In helpful fashion, Cain identifies some immediate candidates: the depressed (they’d welcome it), the old and the moronic (who breed faster than anybody else). Doody (Pleasance Dome) mixes sharp but level-headed comment on the US and religion with choice details about life in Beaver Dam, Kentucky, based on personal experience following his marriage (for reasons that now elude understanding) to an American woman.

The failings of America form the content of ‘This Is So Not About the Simpsons – American Voyeur’ (Assembly at George Street). It features Harry Shearer, best known for his voice work (Mr Burns and others) on ‘The Simpsons’ as well as his part in ‘This Is Spinal Tap’, and an LA-based Welsh singer called Judith Owen.

This show has massive problems. One is that Shearer can’t sing but he’s given several songs. Another is that Owen can sing but makes every song sound identical. She tends to gabble spoken lines. The interaction between the two of them looks arch and artificial. Sometimes it’s non-existent.

These are just the cosmetic difficulties. Far worse is the actual content. Guess what? Americans are obsessed with cosmetic surgery and addicted to oil. They’re religious nuts. George W reckons he has a direct line through to God. These ain’t exactly revelations from on high. But then why would a comic actor and a singer imagine they had any special insights into the American psyche?

Shearer and Owen should be despatched to watch Mark Allen’s ‘Quite Good Britain’ at Lindsay’s, a far-flung venue out towards Leith. It’s a witty and informative disquisition on the history and nature of Great Britain. Unlike their show, it’s not ego-driven. It’s also free. The audience can make a voluntary contribution at the end. It’s a great example of what the Fringe should be about.

Read Malcolm Hay’s Edinburgh comedy blog