As far as I’m aware the Fringe brand, although complete this year with a Cyclops yellow cat wearing a pork-pie hat, has no theme song. This marketing oversight has however been remedied by Laurence Owen, the sung half of Owen and Bettesworth: Sung and Unsung, with a song about the Fringe so brilliant it should immediately be adopted by the Fringe Office and broadcast down the Royal Mile. I cried with laughter at his witty yet loving description of Edinburgh in August – the hills, the crowds- and his acute dissection of the Fringe programme including ‘that Physical Theatre bit that nobody ever actually really reads.’
The Fringe song represented the high point of an uneven show. Oli Bettesworth in the unsung half of the show delivered a grumpy old man routine which belied his youthful appearance. There were some giggles in his rant about the inanities with which people greet each other in offices; overall though the downbeat nature of his stories made it a little too awkward to laugh. He accurately described himself as ‘quite a depressing person’ and didn’t help matters by studiously avoiding any eye contact with the audience and ending his routine with a discomfortingly angry anecdote about a heckler in a previous show.
Acting as compere, Lindsay Sharman though short on actual jokes, did a good job in livening up a very small audience. Her address to the empty chairs - her ‘legion of invisible followers’ - was a masterclass in how to make the best of a difficult situation.
Unconnected except by their genius, Owen’s songs variously lampooned religious schools, stalkers and seaside towns. The Spaghetti-Western soundtrack version of a chugger’s appeal for money was a particular treat. These are songs which seduce with their tight melodies and clever wordings and then deliver a glorious shot of pure dark satire. If ever there was a performer who will soon be snapped up by radio comedy and hit the big time it is Owen - see him now while you can.