Comedy

Uncles

Gardyne Theatre, Dundee

Lorraine Wilson

four stars

PUB conversations are the best conversations. It’s a safe space to tell tales with added limbs, the beer provides additional colour, and friends are always open to the prospect of pals making them laugh.

This is the foundation of Uncles. Starting with two chairs and a table, Ian Connell and Robert Florence take their places clutching beer bottles. They trade stories of their lives, as any two forty-something pals would after a hard day’s work – including school open days, the fantasy of playing for Celtic, attending a gangster’s wedding, and the pub philosopher’s favourite – the parallel universe.

When pulled through the bizarre prism that made Burnistoun such a delight as a sketch show, however, the stories become some of the most original, but still accessible, comedy writing of the present day. Connell’s rage at an interloper on his child’s trampoline is early 1970s De Niro in all but accent.

Uncles made its debut last year, and since then the stories have been tightened to their benefit. As successful as the stage show bringing Burnistoun characters to the stage was, the simplicity of this format allows the writers Connell and Florence to develop longer-form stories rather than a cast of characters and catchphrases.

As performers it also allows them greater freedom to work as a team and wander off-script. When this leads to some top-drawer corpsing from Florence, the comparison to Peter Cook and Dudley Moore becomes clear, Connell fixing Florence with Cook’s impassive but slightly amused stare.

Following an interval, the material still has a high laugh rate but is more obvious than before. That aside, Uncles has clearly been the smartest move possible from the confines of the sketch format. Something even longer-form should be in their sights.