Frankie Boyle — Prometheus Vol 1
Edinburgh International Conference Centre
THERE’S an irresistible thrill in hearing comedians say the ‘unsayable’.
It explains why Frankie Boyle — for all his controversies — was granted a TV comeback this year with his own news discussion show on BBC2.
And it explains why his latest Edinburgh Festival run sold out before it had even started.
Time out of the spotlight seems to have done Boyle good.
Though he is as ruthlessly efficient with his jokes as ever, he’s less prone to machine-gunning them out relentlessly.
Here, they build and develop a little and he cuts a more relaxed figure on stage.
He’s also more adept at flitting between the extreme, cartoon version of himself and the thoughtful, politically astute one.
A paedophile joke, for example, now comes with a knowing, mischievous giggle — like he’s a bored teenager at a family Christmas dinner who hopes dropping an f-bomb will see him never invited again. It is with a wry eye that he mocks a TV channel for cutting one of his near-the-knuckle jokes before showing an ad for the military.
What remains unchanged is Boyle’s gift for conjuring up vivid visuals, such as in a segment involving a Donald Trump policy, a bus, a drunk and a pothole.
The Greek god this show is named after was known as mankind’s greatest benefactor.
Boyle would be the last person to want that job but you can see where his head is at in this accomplished, heady mix. Roll on Volume 2.