A resounding no vote for Salmond
Alex Salmond: Unleashed
Under a large, iridescent chandelier in the Assembly Rooms’ ballroom, Alex Salmond is waddling across the stage, “unleashed”. The former first minister of Scotland, and SNP leader, who lost his seat at the 2017 election to Colin Clark, the Scottish Conservative, has decided to try his luck as a latecomer to showbiz. It is a live chat show, with music and celebrity guests.
Thus far, with the media scrabbling to get a look-in and his “festival of fun, friends and freedom” sold out for its run, the move has been a PR triumph. He even caused a commotion with his first guest on Sunday: David Davis, the Brexit Secretary, joked that he was putting his career on the line by joining his pal for a chin-wag, and implied that the PM lacked a sense of humour. A teasing element of surprise – combined with the rigmarole of scheduling VIPS – means the line-up for the coming days will be kept under wraps. But, alas, with the introduction of Scottish actress Elaine C Smith in her capacity as “convener of the Scottish Independence Convention”, this shindig took a depressing turn towards a party political broadcast on day two.
My hope for an hour of pleasure wasn’t high but, like independence itself, it didn’t seem impossible. Looking like Humpty Dumpty squeezed into a bank manager’s suit, with his quivering jowls, big belly and bushy eyebrows, Salmond got some early laughs in. The alternative title was Alex Salmond: Unhinged, he quipped, before theatrically ripping off his tie and throwing it into the crowd. A heckler pleaded “No more!” “Someone shouted that out yesterday. There’s no originality!” he jibed. Hardly the next Frankie Boyle, but not bad, wee man.
Salmond then became misty-eyed as he reminisced about the beautiful September day in Dundee three years ago when he saw Scotland’s downtrodden masses queuing to register to vote for the referendum (I paraphrase), tilting from sheepish self-deprecation to the studied resolve of the seasoned orator. An onstage band stood by, waiting for their turn to accompany incidental “clangers”, swearing and revelations with comedy sound effects. Yet by and large they remained idle, as Smith joined him to drone on about what next for “indyref ”, and what went wrong at the election.
It was all filler, no killer, the aimlessness compounded by a brief, low-key set from Glaswegian comic Janey Godley. I expected him to swig whisky, blast the Tories and belt out
Je ne regrette rien, but instead he joined Smith to croon ( just) a few rounds of the traditional Scottish air The Four Marys. He said farewell after raising few laughs but at least a few bob for a leukaemia charity, via a last-minute auction. The highest bidder got to have posh afternoon tea with their hero. On the evidence of this, I’d rather spend a week at the dentist’s.
Until Aug 27. Details: 0131 623 3030 (returns only); edfringe.com