Over the ten years of coming to the Fringe, never have I seen a dog as a member of the audience. Many acts would probably take a bit of issue with it and rightly so, but the utterly at ease Seymour Mace has no qualms with it whatsoever. The weirdest thing about Niche as Fuck is going to be him alone.
Mace addresses the missing members of the front row as all part of his reputation. He’s niche; if they were occupied he’d then be popular. He casually warns the audience that the show might not quite be for them and they are more than welcome to leave early on if not for them, but he’ll still keep their money. It’s all friendly and he seems to bear no gripes towards anyone afraid of the unconventional. Making adjustments to how his opening was intended after doctors warnings regarding the state of his knees, Mace is in his mid forties now. A very home-made puppet show is an early indicator of the anarchy to come in the next hour, it’s not slick but that’s not really the way this show is seemingly intended. The audience are going for it and it’s a real positive start.
Many of the skits come across as trial and error, some evoke raucous laughter, particularly his rendition of Scrooge that gave me one of the biggest laughs this festival but some do real test the patience of the audience. Some skits ask for audience participation, but it’s nothing the most anxious of people need fear the threat of humiliation.
Mace is very much the missing cursive third to Vic and Bob, Niche as Fuck is a mixed bag, there’s no central theme or much to tie anything together, but it’s a perfect dumb and fun show that caters perfectly for those of a daft persuasion and should throughout this fringe find a plentiful and appreciative audience.
***(and a half)