Norman Lovett’s deadpan face will be instantly recognizable to a generation as the dim-witted ship’s computer, Holly of
I guess you could call it ‘anti-stand-up’ where there’s not much in the way of jokes and definitely no punch-lines
Lovett’s performance style is unlike any other comedian at the Fringe. I guess you could call it ‘anti-stand-up’ where there’s not much in the way of jokes and definitely no punch-lines. We spend an hour in the company of a man who seems to have not bothered to prepare anything other than a small black bag of props and oddities which he occasionally dips into to inspire a thought that might or might not turn into a meandering story.
Some moments are even a bit melancholy such as when he reminisces about his beloved dog, Elvis, who passed away this year. In fact Lovett often returns to subjects which are close to his heart: the Olympics, his late dog and his enthusiasm for the much misunderstood girl-band, The Sugababes. Sometimes, he loses his train of thought and has to throw questions to the audience in order to remember the name of an athlete or location but everyone is keen to join in.
If you’re not a fan of Mr Lovett you might find this hour of amiable chat a bit light on laughs, but he’s incredibly likeable and his wandering ‘mindscape’ is a delightful place to visit.
