From the moment the word ‘Bread’ began flashing busily on the stage curtain, it was clear that this year’s Footlights Presents was not going to be even remotely sensible. As expected, what followed in Bread was an hour and a bit of absurd sketches and, taken out of context, even more absurd one-liners.

Despite this superficial randomness, Bread is a sketch show which regularly falls back on a fairly formulaic structure, establishing a ridiculous scenario of some kind (Damien Hirst teaching nursery art, Daniel Day-Lewis method acting Charles Darwin by savaging baby turtles), before subverting expectations prepared in the setup with the punchline. While this punchy recipe was successful in avoiding the propensity for many student sketch shows to allow hilarious concepts simply to fizzle out, the gags themselves were rather hit and miss. A Star Wars themed scene in which Obi-Wan mistakes one Han Olo for Han Solo was fairly weak, only revived by James Coward’s amusing portrayal of the Norwegian Bounty (the chocolate kind) hunter.

Truthfully, the strategy was pulled off more effectively where bits were shorter and simpler. When Rufus McAlister (offstage) is confused about whether what he’s eating is a peach or a nectarine, the roar of shock and laughter when he comes on-stage holding a guinea pig is electrifying, and captured the best of the show’s occasionally wayward comedy. These smaller bits, many of which were videos projected onto the stage curtain, did a lot to break up the show as a whole, and under Patrick Wilson’s direction, gave the show a rhythm which made for easy viewing.

“Eve Delaney and James Coward deserve special praise. Both possessed that fascinating and enviable trait of just being able to look funny”

Bread is not roll-about laughing stuff – you’re certainly likely to see something funnier at the ADC this term. But it did showcase a number of genuinely talented comic actors, who could have really have excelled with some slightly better jokes.

Eve Delaney and James Coward deserve special praise. Both possessed that fascinating and enviable trait of just being able to look funny. In Eve’s case, this was perhaps best showcased in a sketch where she was alone on stage, her interior monologue narrated through the theatre speakers, debating whether to open her laptop – which may or may not have porn open – in her lecture. Every twitch and pained grimace, every awkward movement and paranoid glance was pitched perfectly and weaved smoothly into the pre-recorded audio. While the concept was undoubtedly funny on its own, drawing more than a few guilty giggles, it was Delaney who made it one of the highlights of the show.

But if Delaney’s comic potency came primarily from the face, Coward’s was head to toe. Playing characters ranging from the mad to the mundane, he seemed to be channelling John Cleese through his own similarly lanky limbs. This quality is somewhat hard to express, but I think the best way of putting it is to say that I can imagine few comic actors in Cambridge being able to pull off the role of ‘joint-smoking French cow’ in the way that Coward seemed to be able to in the last, and otherwise fairly weak, sketch of the night. I’m not sure I could have told you what such a role would entail before seeing Bread, but Coward was astonishingly bovine and managed to give the impression of rolling a joint while hooved (no mean feat)!

Though very impressive, the rest of the group clearly lagged behind Delaney and Coward. For instance, in a scene set in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, Coward and McAlister sit in bins, deformed and blind, waxing lyrical about the days before the fall. McAlister is not unconvincing in the role of this twisted human wreck, but brings little of the physicality and slightly alien creepiness that Coward manages, and simply isn’t as funny for that alone.

Review: Pity Laughs

Though to his credit, McAlister – who had one scene involving audience interaction – was successful in building up a rapport with the audience, which came in handy in a later, not hugely funny sketch which relied on their comic sympathy for his rather tragic pianist character. Rhiannon Shaw, too, put in a strong performance, but rarely set herself apart from her peers, only really excelling in a scene about a rather pathetic pushover, who, stranded and injured on the side of a mountain, forgives her failed rescuer (who takes his helicopter to Domino’s instead), whimpering in an Australian accent “If you’re craving chicken strippers, who am I to judge?”

Will Hall’s role in the troupe was somewhat more unique, excelling in character comedy and inhabiting rather convincingly a great range of personas, from an emotional French plumber, to a Scottish murder detective, to Damien Hirst teaching a primary school art class.

“If this sounds childish, that’s because it is.”

While these strong peformances couldn’t save a solid number of fairly average pieces, there were a few real gems. In the Sims sketch, Bread had hit upon a comedy goldmine, perfectly balancing the absurd with the oddly relatable. I may never get to see grown men and women pretending to be Sims again, but I feel blessed to have been privy to it at least once. Kudos to Will Hall and Rhiannon Shaw (presumably after an intensive course at the Cambridge Language Centre) for their unimpeachable Simlish. In another, rather inexplicable scene, the boys in the group – two dressed as sperm, one as an egg – simply chase each other around the theatre. If this sounds childish, that’s because it is.

Overall, I can’t say I regretted going to see Bread. As a showcase of talent for comic actors, I was wholly impressed. But despite this set of strong performances, I can’t heap undeserved praise on the show – there simply weren’t enough great bits to make up for the few stillborn punchlines. So while this won’t go down as a great Footlights Presents show, I can’t wait to see its leading lights again in something with more consistently brilliant material