At the end of Jerry Sadowitz and Logan Murray's total abuse show, the stage is littered with a rubber doll (Craig Charles sex gag), a wheelchair (Christopher-Reeves-can-fly routine), two white sticks, a pair of breasts and a penis. More than that, you needn't know. Oscillating wildly from near-brilliant lunacy to shock-for-shock's-sake anti-humour, the show mirrors Sadowitz's career in microcosm with its violent troughs and peaks. The old gobshite has at least found himself a creditable partner in Murray, who can more than match him rant for rant. But the trouble with comedy of the extreme is its relentless numbing effect. In the end, the only shocking thing was that in making their list of targets (women, gays, the homeless, Chinese, Indians etc), they forgot to include blacks.
To Sat. Assembly Rooms (venue 3)