There is an enormous amount to like about Inglorious Stereo. Paul Putner and Glen Richardson owe much as they acknowledge to the Two Ronnies, and their admirably shambolic hour of musical comedy sits firmly in the knockabout tradition of the old English variety show. There is nothing on-trend about Putner and Richardson, and their show is all the better for it. Amid a rising trend for comedy to run closer and closer to the bone, competing to shock and appal, the innocent enjoyment of Inglorious Stereo is a refreshing tonic. Their sketches, though, are decidedly hit-and-miss. A Four Candles-inspired scene of record shop confusion is excellent rather like sitting in the pub with a favourite rambling uncle and a neat concept of out-of-work composers providing incidental music in the workplace is well executed. Others, such as a Terrys All Gold musical that lacks sufficient sharpness in its parody of West End cliché, are poorly conceived and limply executed. Troublesomely, much of the material relies on a working knowledge of 1970s British pop culture, and at times appeared beyond the ken of the Edinburgh audience this reviewer included. Inglorious Stereo, sadly, is not helped by its mid-afternoon slot. The closing piece, a gauntlet of impressions to the tune of Old MacDonald, fell rather flat in the face of a lethargic audience, and even splendid character creations such as working mans comic Frankie Tan and the reggae singing Reverend Two-Tone lacked the energy that a more enthusiastic response might give. I desperately want to like Inglorious Stereo: Paul Putner and Glen Richardson are thoroughly endearing performers, but some judicious editing might help to avoid the uncomfortable feeling that this favourite uncle is getting drunk and dancing at a wedding.
