The title of this show and the sweet, open and slightly goofy face staring at you from the posters should tell you everything you need to know about this show: and stand-up Luca Cupani splashes around in what should be the oxymoronic subject material with a routine at once both deliciously gauche and profoundly moving.
Luca Cupani deserves big audiences and even bigger laughs
The set is essentially an exploration of the death of his mother and how – despite his protestations to the contrary – it affected him. It is an endearingly crafted hour and delivered with a soft and appealing Italian accent which does no harm in help to win over the audience. It shouldn’t really matter that Cupani is performing in his fourth language, but there is something so admirable and vulnerable about making people laugh in your adopted country that it melts our hearts from the outset.
This idiosyncratic comic persona is integral to the progression and success of the piece, which unfolds with plenty of awkward teenaged scenarios and moments of open-mouthed surprise. There is a lovely sense of naturalness in Cupani’s delivery, and it feels as though we are all old friends catching up for a chat. This rather unusual confidentiality pushes the narrative forwards with a greater urgency than most comedy sets: we are so thoroughly invested in the story that we want more information for its own sake as well as for comedy value.
One suspects that Luca Cupani will become an increasingly well-known name in future years, and at this Fringe, certainly deserves big audiences and even bigger laughs.
