A polished performance with a strong narrative and slick transitions into beautifully choreographed song and dance numbers this is not. Paul Vickers is certainly a comedian but not of the hip, fresh-faced, trying-to-prove-themselves variety. Vickers is from a different, less hectic, time, perhaps even a different, less hectic, planet.
Despite his Harpo Marx on heroin appearance and at times spaced out gaze, Vickers is very with it. He spouts endless eloquent nonsense, comparable to Edward Lear or Lewis Carroll, though there are plenty of modern references. The small cavern is very much Vickers's kingdom, with his collection of strange props assembled around him. Most of them disturbing creatures probably picked up from one of Edinburgh's many weird antique shops. All the more disturbing when he starts to introduce them.
The show has a very hand made feel, with Vickers doing everthing, even fiddling with the music player for his songs. These songs are sung in exactly the same relaxed manner as the rest of his material and contain equally imaginative language.
It is short and shambolic, quintessentially fringe; honest, silly and enjoyable for what it is.