Abracadabra: German Humour Goes Global - Fringe 2009
Live Review

The statement of international expansion in their show title can’t disguise the fact that Henning Wehn and Otto Kuhnle have found a formula that works for them and stuck to it. The additional gag here is that while Kuhnle’s vaudevillian turns now occasionally incorporate elements from Australia or Spain, Wehn’s stand-up increasingly alludes to a Teutonic desire for world domination.

\r\nBut while Kuhnle’s seemingly bottomless box of tricks continues to entertain, despite him performing a few of these at the Fringe before, Wehn seems to have reached a crossroads in his comedy. He’s too stilted in his second language and still too exotic for many to be a crowd-pleaser like his compatriot. But he’s also stepped back from the edge that made him so compelling – that borderline offensiveness that trod a knowingly fine line between nationalism and xenophobia, with those age-old resentments between the UK and Germany never far from the surface.

\r\nCleverly, he mocks the English football team’s recent success, fully conscious that while a Scottish audience may appreciate the sentiment, he’s in danger of seeming oblivious to his surroundings. It’s all a ruse though, so he can take his time brutally demolishing the reputation of a Scottish side that scarcely needs his assistance. The beautiful game is clearly a passion for Wehn and he manages to bring fresh perspectives to the sport every time he ruminates upon it.

\r\nElsewhere though, he’s still denouncing the inefficiency of British service, in stark contrast to the ‘get up early, get things done’ mentality of the Germans. That’s all very well, but there’s only so many times you can evoke a stereotype ironically before you start to reinforce it, especially if it’s so close to being a bald statement of fact that it’s scarcely worth mentioning. Playing to larger audiences now, Wehn doesn’t seem to be stretching the scope of his ambition to match, increasingly resembling Kuhnle’s straight man.

\r\nFor his part, ‘the funniest man in Düsseldorf’ earns your admiration with the lightness of his touch, his accomplished accordion playing, aria singing and broom dancing all approached with the same eager-to-please enthusiasm and sense of showmanship as his less obviously impressive moments. His big number, yodelling while performing a handstand in a girl’s dress and directing an orchestra of cowbells in the audience is hilarious, though the abiding image remains him using a leafblower to juggle all manner of objects and ultimately wrap himself and Wehn in celebratory lengths of toilet paper.  \r\n\r\n