Escaping from the cramped, sticky and tourist infested Cambridge during summer the Footlights once again take to the Fringe with a show of short plays and sketches.
Their plays, as ever, mix surreal humour and word play, yet somehow manage to tie themselves to some elaborately constructed plots. The Footlights also display a polish in their interaction with each other, and their delivery is hard to fault. It’s also surprising for a sketch show to remain as consistently funny as Wishful Thinking.
There is of course the unhelpful tendency to think of anything less than funny that the Footlights do as avant garde or extremely intelligent. This is after was where a whole raft of great comics, from Peter Cook to the Pythons, sprang from. Thankfully this show doesn’t get too derailed in completely warped humour or comedy requiring a DPhil in ancient Greek.
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