EdFringe Review: Brendan Scannell: The Abyss

Brendan Scannell’s The Abyss is utterly excellent; stand-up it is most certainly not. Why that tag has been attached to it in the Fringe programme is anyone’s guess. No, this is accomplished solo, tragicomic theatre.

Sure, Scannell has the stand-up’s instinct for a well-timed punchline, and knows how to engage his front row—whether sharing seaweed snacks, rallying “antidepressant queens”, or recalling childhood wars over Froobs—and in place of “so what do you do?”, he’ll be asking “so what’s your greatest fear?”

Distancing it further from stand-up is the meta-theatrical framing. We first meet Brendan wearing a translucent helmet, and freaking out as the submersible we’ve joined him on sinks into the depths. It is, we’re told, a non-FDA-approved form of therapy, designed to “finger the hole” (this is a comedy show!) in our thoughts and feelings. Querulous inner-children will be met, domestic laundry will be aired, and crippling worries brought to the surface.

Tragicomic Theatre in the Fringe Depths

Now we’ve established what The Abyss is, how is it? In a word, excellent; but if you’ve had your fill of Fringe trauma-dumps over the years, it may not be for you. However, as deeply personal comedic self-excavations go, it’s up there with the best. OK, some of the theatrical excesses (Brendan is an accomplished actor) probably play better to American audiences than to the more jaded crews who typically rock up to an Edinburgh show. It’s not a problem; in fact, in embracing his inner drama-monarch, it feels as if he’s showing you more of who he really is.

Now we’ve established what The Abyss is, how is it? In a word, excellent; but if you’ve had your fill of Fringe trauma-dumps over the years, it may not be for you.

He also sticks with the submersible-schtick for an admirably long time before setting it aside to speak the darkest truths he’s come to share. A disembodied voice will guide him through the stages of the treatment, chastise him for inappropriate use of the on-stage mic, and let him know when it’s snack time. Whether the tale of how he got the free voucher for the session is true or not, the highly “Only in LA” story he gives rings true and gets a laugh.

The meat of the show, however, is an obviously painful account of his life, and more specifically how it has been shaped by a profoundly mentally unwell brother. There are detours, Scannell’s magnifying glass sliding over formative moments in his Irish Catholic childhood, professional career, mental health, and love life, but as we sink lower, he runs out of other things to talk of except the brother he really doesn’t want to — or feel able to — discuss.

With the able help of director Emily Olcott, Scannell’s monologue avoids getting bogged down, a deft mix of observational gag, incisive personal jab, and sharp-edged comic anecdote keeping the show constantly in motion towards its dark, abyssal heart. There are more than a few laugh-out-loud moments, but whether he’s discussing a medication-enhanced laundry obsession, or mishaps as the ill-qualified personal assistant to an LA superstar, few of the big chuckles come without a sting. OK, his bit on a lifelong fear of sharks offers a few ridiculous punchlines, but it’s saying something when discussions of a phobia provide the light relief.

If, having taken us down into the depths, Brendan Scannell offered some trite, positive finale, the audience would be within their rights to throw rotten fruit. However, staying true to life, Scannell eschews the neat and sticks with the messy. If anything, The Abyss is the tragicomic story of one talented comedian/actor’s journey towards acceptance of life’s most crippling imperfections. In the wrong hands, this would be an unbearable misery-fest, so bravo Brendan Scannell for sending your audience out with enough hope to sweeten a comic, yet bitter pill of a show.

Judged on its own terms, this is a fairly perfect show — but be warned once more, if you’re expecting stand-up, this is not the show you’re looking for. However, if it’s an expertly delivered comedy trauma-dump you crave, look no further — this is a show destined to collect standing ovations throughout its run.