Beasts

Fringes are a gift to the arts. I wouldn't normally find myself sitting second row on a Sunday night, crying with laugher while the bare bum of a fully grown man was rubbed in the face of the woman in front of me (well, at least not to review publicly…). But, this Sunday, hangover fully in tact from a raucous S**t-Faced Shakespeare the previous night, I was treated to the marvellous spectacle that is Beasts.

The three man comedy outfit are a spectacle indeed, the kind of attention craving performers whose energy appears to bubble outside of their own physical presence. In the Warren's sweaty Theatre Box they seemed to become one with the crowd; their booming voices ricocheting off the walls, their feet clambering over our seats, their hands ruffling audience members' hair and their unsolicited bottoms placed on the laps of front-rowers.

At times their energy became so trapped in this increasingly hot space that they burst the doors open, running like e-numbered children out into the surrounding grassed area of the Warren, unsuspecting punters leaping out the way as the hilarious Ciarán Dowd ran circles around them, wearing nothing but a butt-less mankini and ball gag, James in quick pursuit with a leather paddle. If this all sounds a bit silly, it was, but these three comedians sit well on that fine line that many fail to achieve; loud, annoying and hyperactive, but always funny, and usually, rather clever too.

The entire show is weaved loosely around the idea of finding Mr. Brighton, an idea that they've recently been translating to whichever town they find themselves performing in, with lots of silly songs, witty poetry and dirty laughs. As usually happens with hooks of this kind, there were moments where it felt like the speed fell to keep the ongoing joke steaming ahead, but these weren't too cumbersome, and made very little dent in an otherwise side-splitting show.

The balance of all three comedians really gives this group an edge - their styles are totally polarised and there's plenty of straight-to-stupid going on, yet they all meet at the same level of intensity. A must-see for future Fringes.