EdFringe Review: Ayo Adenekan: Homeland Insecurity

I was the first critic to catch Ayo’s sensational Fringe show, Black Mediocrity, last year; I marked him as one to watch, and hasn’t his star risen? Other reviewers followed in my footsteps, bestowing rave reviews; an award came next, and then a writing gig on SNL UK. I was correct in every respect aside from thinking it would be the last year you could catch this Scottish comedy treasure in the Cabaret Voltaire dungeon. Well, it’s a nice dungeon, and Monkey Barrel look after their performers well. Fair dos.

So how’s the sequel, Homeland Insecurity? In a word, great! Ayo remains super-likeable and super-funny in equal measure. His delivery, infused with a laid-back cheekiness, is the cherry on the cake. Knowing better than to reinvent the wheel on his sophomore showing, Ayo goes back to the well of personal history and pulls up a fresh bucketful of anecdotes, some funny at the time, others more so in retrospect.

Having made his introductions last year, however, Ayo wants to talk about something new: love. What does it mean to Ayo Adenekan? Where do you find it? You could say he’s in a romantic state of mind, but he’s reaching something a bit more profound. Maybe moving from Edinburgh to London has put him in a philosophical mood; or maybe he knows an audience loves a summer love story told well.

Ayo Adenekan in Love

Invoking classics like Love Actually or 10 Things I Hate About You, he shares a summer fling from years ago, born in a pulled pork shop (you better believe he gets mileage from that), and ending on a Waverley platform. It’s a solid bit, but he probably needs to sell it harder to make the set fully cohesive – a few more warm, relatable laughs here will make his later comparisons more distinct.

Even so, it sets the scene for a cracking set, whether he’s taking us on very peculiar trips to B&Q with his dad, or out with his ‘straight white mates’; he’s a natural comedic storyteller. He has the confidence of a performer who knows he has first-rate punchlines, and the patience to deliver them at just the right time. He’ll set you up with moments of genuine vulnerability, then smack you in the face with a hilarious line out of left field. Making the laughs all the more genuine is Ayo’s palpable love for his friends, his mum, and the dad with whom he has a difficult relationship, running through every set-up.

Still, even when Ayo isn’t making your belly hurt, his charm is sufficient, and he will make your belly hurt. His recurring bit about needing sponsors to fund his second Fringe outing results in some fabulously contrived product placement, and when he starts talking about a certain comedian with whom he shares a name, strap in for the belly laughs.

“So how’s the sequel, Homeland Insecurity? In a word, great! Ayo remains super-likeable and super-funny in equal measure.“

Ultimately, Homeland Insecurity is a fine attempt to construct a more narratively complete show than his first. Neither his charm, nor laid-back puckishness have deserted him, nor has he lost the timing and delivery that elevates his patter. The set mightn’t have eclipsed his debut, and maybe the finale needs a little more oomph, but once more I urge you to see Ayo Adenekan before his star soars out of that dungeon and into bigger, more expensive rooms.