Craig Hill: Tartan About
Review: Betty McKeough
Craig Hill took to the stage in a high energy burst of movement that had his audience revved and ready for fun from the get go.
This guy knows how to work a sporran, and a crowd.
His no holds barred approach to audience interaction could have been confronting, but was delivered with such delight, we lapped it up. He makes a fine art of the reverse heckle, several vocal punters willingly offering themselves as targets.
There were plenty of laughs in the difficulties of Scots and Australians struggling to comprehend one another. His own accent wasn't an issue for most of us, but some audience replies to his questions required spelling out. Hill's delivery of a stream of mosquito whining, vowel free, nasal Aussie bogan twang was as painfully accurate as any impression I've heard.
If I have any criticism at all, it's that he maybe lingered too long on a couple of bewildered individuals who were a bit slow to respond. His reaction to their hesitation was funny enough that it didn't detract too much.
Plenty of gay stand-ups play to stereotypes for a laugh, but Hill's approach is unlike any I've seen. Flamboyant and risque, certainly, but if you think homo humour is all limp wrists and mincing, prepare for a shock to your preconceptions. Not that his orientation isn't the fuel his performance runs on.
It's absolutely the source and substance of much of his material, but it's high octane camp hilarity, not lisping double-entendre.
You might even learn something.
The musical gags were a highlight for me. What a voice! His impersonations of several iconic female vocalists were brilliant, as was his impression of a drag queen. I won't spoil it with further description. Just go see it for yourself.
Craig Hill is fast, funny and engaging. He sings like an angel, dances like a demon and leaves you near breathless with mirth. It's like being bowled over by a kilted whirlwind.