Like a lot of my Fringe calendar, Kathy Maniura’s character comedy show, ‘Cycling Man,’ came recommended to me from the Instagram stories of Lorna Rose Treen, who is doing a sterling job of using her large following to platform some of the more bonkers comedy on offer. Like almost all of the shows I saw, I knew absolutely nothing about Maniura when I walked in. But it took under ten minutes to become a convert.
Cycling Man joins us from an under-staffed, over-crowded A&E department, where he has been brought as the result of a nasty cycling accident. Maniura is clad in keen cyclist gear; full Lycra, helmet camera, specialist shoes, with a manic expression to match. The character is vividly drawn and immediately recognisable – a posh businessman, a London lifer, oozing toxic masculinity from every pore. Her characterisation is enhanced further by a jumpy physicality and excellent writing, which make him immediately, incredibly vivid and deeply silly -‘What I have to say is the most interesting and valuable. And I’ve never not been in that situation.’
We begin with some brilliantly un-introspective charts and graphs as Cycling Man tries to fathom how he possibly could’ve got divorced, and his desperation to win back his estranged ex-wife. We follow as he journeys from arrogance to self-reflection and despair, at one point using a handheld camera to argue with the audience (playing other A&E patients) as their reactions are projected onto the screen behind him. He then goes outside and we watch him continuing arguing with an over-worked nurse – video is used well in the climactic moments too. The show almost peaks emotionally several times, and perhaps these peaks could have been concentrated more closely towards the end to create more of a final momentum. But the hour flies by, and we remain desperately invested, even when CM WD-40s his crotch. The jokes are joyfully consistent in quality and quantity and deeply ridiculous – he is fully realised, becoming increasingly vulnerable, yet remaining painfully not in on the joke.
It’s impressive to do character comedy that feels fully developed, making Cycling Man feel like a fully fleshed-out – if silly – persona that has real depth. It’s a real masterclass in character comedy, and I desperately hope Maniura tours the show. Partly because I need to see it again, and also so I can send my London cycling friends to it.