Craig Hill: This Gets Harder Every Year! ★★★★

Uber camp Scottish comic Craig Hill is now, unarguably, a Fringe staple. His brand of hyper and ruthlessly bitchy stand-up has gained a reputation of one of the more reliable ticket purchases, if you like his sort of thing.

This ‘kilty pleasure’s’ format is pretty much standardised. Storming on stage to a hi-energy song du jour (this year it’s Loreen’s Eurovision-conquering Tattoo), he’ll berate those foolhardy enough to sit down the front, spend 50 minutes picking out audience members to rip a new one, and climax by plucking someone (usually a cute gay guy) to join him for a closing dance number.

If that summary sounds dismissive, it’s not. It takes a huge amount of energy, charisma and quick thinking to pull a show of this kind off. And Hill is adept at directing events, swiftly moving on when no comedy is to be mined from a punter. He’s brisk to deal with boorish hecklers, and always ready with a barb, mimic or aside.

The cynical may carp that Hill probably has a few dozen put-downs tucked away in his sporran that can be trotted out for any number of situations. (“What do you do? Hairdressing? Well, we know what that means, don’t we? Left. School. Early.”) But they keep the show zipping along and have his varied audience hooting away, even if the acoustics in this year’s venue work against him somewhat.

So, belly laughs are all but guaranteed. If you like his sort of thing.