Like all good horror movies of a certain era, you enter the castle or residence of the mysterious host, and are introduced to a charming figure with a sinister undercurrent of danger and intrigue. Enter Nick Everritt, who is picture-perfect in this persona: part Christopher Lee, part Peter Cushing, with a dash of Matt Berry in his delivery. If you get him, you’re in for a treat — and tonight’s audience certainly did, leaning into his strange half-gothic, half-comic presence with relish.

The clever trick is that this doesn’t feel like an act at all. It feels exactly like him. His “laboured” crowd work, delivered in a perfectly straight deadpan, somehow lands beautifully, especially a fantastic barb about “English Go Home” — which, as he shrugs, is exactly what he intends to do after this show. It’s refreshing, odd, and very funny. His creepy stage presence is never overplayed either: there’s a touch of Hannibal Lecter’s charm, a hint of Larry David’s cynicism, and something wholly his own simmering underneath. It’s both unsettling and oddly comforting — a rare combination at the Fringe.

The material ranges wide but stays sharp. His co-worker observations are excellent, everyday irritations twisted into mini horror tales. A knock-knock joke becomes a gleeful set piece that absolutely slays. There’s Doctor Who, Tinder dating disasters, and a brilliant deconstruction of the standard one-hour Fringe structure — meta, merciless, and wicked fun, as if he’s pulling the curtains back on the mechanics of comedy itself. Everritt has a knack for making even familiar premises feel uncanny, as though they’ve been dragged out of some dusty crypt and given new, twisted life.

This is one of the freshest, fiendish, and most distinctive comedians on the Fringe. He’s carving out something different — part horror homage, part dry social commentary, part gleeful misanthropy — and the result is addictive. So bring your candelabra, head out across the moors, and let the full moon guide you into the twisted world of a very talented comedian furrowing his own path. Just don’t forget the crucifix and garlic — you’ll need them.

****

Reviewed by Steve H

Just the Tonic  Mash House

18.10 – 19.10

Until 24th August