Don't let the poster fool you. There is no scary green man in a gas mask, only this kindly-looking wrinkly one with an unusually dirty mouth and an even dirtier mind. Half stand-up comedy show, half one-man jam session, Ed Hamell's Terrorism of Every Day Life is a witty, vulgar, and honest look at the way life spends its time scaring us sh*tless.
Hamell is clearly polished; he's that old kind of comic that is well rehearsed at being spontaneous. Drifting from story to story -- from a childhood encounter with a potty-mouthed member of The Beatles, to his awkward adolescence, to having to ask the difficult questions of his own son -- Hamell is always cool, always authentic. He sometimes turning away from the microphone, mid-joke, to tell the audience things as if they're not on the record, things our parents in the next room wouldn't want us to hear. Not an easy task, especially when you're talking as fast as you can to complete your bit in only 60 minutes. (he did)
When Hamell's not being our cool uncle, telling us all the nasty (and funny) truths from which our parents have for so long been protecting us, he's blasting the life out of his worn guitar. For a guy that looks like a retired Mr. Clean, he rocks impressively hard and really keeps the show moving, varied, and engaging. He even has a naughty song or two that will make things between the girls sitting around you just a little bit awkward. His act is definitely worth seeing (without children, for the love of god). He even won an award at the large and illustrious Edinburgh Fringe Festival and he doesn't even mention it (well, maybe once or twice).
Don't let the poster fool you. There is no scary green man in a gas mask, only this kindly-looking wrinkly one with an unusually dirty mouth and an even dirtier mind. Half stand-up comedy show, half one-man jam session, Ed Hamell's Terrorism of Every Day Life is a witty, vulgar, and honest look at the way life spends its time scaring us sh*tless.
Hamell is clearly polished; he's that old kind of comic that is well rehearsed at being spontaneous. Drifting from story to story -- from a childhood encounter with a potty-mouthed member of The Beatles, to his awkward adolescence, to having to ask the difficult questions of his own son -- Hamell is always cool, always authentic. He sometimes turning away from the microphone, mid-joke, to tell the audience things as if they're not on the record, things our parents in the next room wouldn't want us to hear. Not an easy task, especially when you're talking as fast as you can to complete your bit in only 60 minutes. (he did)
When Hamell's not being our cool uncle, telling us all the nasty (and funny) truths from which our parents have for so long been protecting us, he's blasting the life out of his worn guitar. For a guy that looks like a retired Mr. Clean, he rocks impressively hard and really keeps the show moving, varied, and engaging. He even has a naughty song or two that will make things between the girls sitting around you just a little bit awkward. His act is definitely worth seeing (without children, for the love of god). He even won an award at the large and illustrious Edinburgh Fringe Festival and he doesn't even mention it (well, maybe once or twice).
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