Combining elements of this year’s Edinburgh Fringe show with his 2023 hour, South African comic Schalk Bezuidenhout’s latest UK tour really emphasises his status as a beta male and 32-year-old with an “old soul”.
TikTok-averse and casting himself as a prude, he’s intimidated by fellow comedians enjoying foursomes, fretting about the etiquette of keeping everyone happy. By way of illustration, his own inadvertent three-in-a-bed romp is about as unsexy an instance of coitus interruptus as it’s possible to imagine.
Recalling his first encounter with hard drugs, regressing to his youthful innocence as a wide-eyed, open spot comic showing himself up in front of more experienced acts in his eagerness to join the fraternity, it’s a mortifying tale to be sure, but one with a hilarious and exquisitely delivered pay-off.
When he self-consciously mouths descriptions of sexual anatomy in a euphemistic mumble, rather than express it aloud, it feels less like a stage affectation and more like a genuine expression of discomfort. And with his slightly camp voice, children’s television presenter knitwear and propensity to visit European hedonism capitals like Amsterdam with his mother, Bezuidenhout remains endearingly naif-like.
For all that though, there’s an edge to an otherwise twee account of him being the youngest member of his lawn bowls team by several decades, as he makes significant mischief out of the lingering, Apartheid-era views of his mother and fellow pensioner teammates.
With their own euphemistic reluctance to fully articulate their racism, he entertainingly twists their unworldly cultural understanding for his own amusement. The flip-side to this though, is his mother’s recently acquired gaydar. The pride she takes in showing her tolerance is an enthusiasm that Bezuidenhout patiently indulges like a proud liberal parent himself.
Strangers tend to have preconceptions about the violence in his homeland, exacerbated by memories of Oscar Pistorius’ murder of his girlfriend Reeva Steenkamp. Yet even this Bezuidenhout affords amusing charm to, whimsically presenting the threat as a welcome and familiar quirk whenever he ventures home.
As an ambassador for the South African tourist board he’d be a mixed booking at best, lobbying for it as a holiday destination but with hefty disclaimers. Naturally, a fair chunk of his material is to devoted to cultural differences. And the cut and shunt nature of combining two shows serves him badly here, as he presents South Africans as both stoic and bursting to make jokes with gallows humour. Meanwhile, the British are both reserved and explosively angry.
Of course, it’s possible to be both. And humorous generalisations elide nuance. Yet Bezuidenhout only pays the briefest lip service to the basic inconsistencies.
Elsewhere, his account of being circumcised at 13 goes a long way to perhaps explaining his general inhibition, a body horror tale of cumulative humiliation that really ought to close the show, instead of the vividly presented but less memorable account of the odd triumvirate of visitors who once gave talks at his school.
A solid storyteller and likeable act to spend time with, who feels completely ensconced in the UK comedy scene after performing here for the better part of a decade, Bezuidenhout still lacks that risk-taking, original verve that could set him apart.
Runs until 22 October 2024 | Image: Contributed
