one4review | On 12, Aug 2026

Cassidy is back with his new show, and things have changed since last year. It’s Christmas past; he’s divorced and finds himself living in a basement, not so much a digital nomad but a dadless Basement Jaxx, as his kids aren’t around and he’s preparing to face it alone. The metaphoric ghosts of Christmas past are coming back on reflection, but he’s watching the English cricket team getting humped 3-0 during the Ashes. Is there hope? Is a comeback on the cards for England and our protagonist, and will it correspond to his own phoenix rising from the flames, or will it burn up and fade away? And will this somehow lead to getting to see his kids at the festive time?

In lesser hands it could be dour and a pity party, but this is great clever stuff from a man in his prime. By questioning aloud: is comedy really just for art’s sake? Is it quantifiable to his current situation, and is it still the brave platform for creatives that it once was, much like his current situation?

Having the cricket team analogy also works to his strengths, his bowl mates, if you like, through the narrative. His comedy peers like Jimmy Carr ribbing gently, playful and cutting at the right times. The reflection on his parents and grandparents is lovely, while the barbs involving yoga mums and Taylor Swift, and the mental scarring of traditional jazz, all hit true.

But it’s the deconstruction of music memories that evokes emotion, like a reality rom-com, that is hilarious in the final third and really stands out.

Overall, Cassidy plays the cards to his strengths, and he’s one of only a handful of acts over at the Fringe where the word auteur can apply. That DIY approach, self-funding, keeping his own voice and not compromising is proof that when the output is this good, no one can touch him.

This is his strongest show in years, with the right wave to ride, and more importantly, it’s all out bloody funny.

4 stars ****
Reviewed by Steve H.
The Lounge at Laughing Horse @ The Counting House
Until 30th August
19.15 – 20.15