Will Robbins: With the Best Will in the World

Edinburgh Fringe – Pleasance

Apart from Will Robbins’ penchant for the odd pun or one-liner, the majority of the muted humour in With the Best Will in the World lends itself to a rather stilted hour where we constantly fight to stop our thoughts from wandering elsewhere. 

There’s a loose thread that winds its way throughout that Robbins refers back to frequently, tackling the question of disability and ableism in society. It’s the only part of the show that is adequately signposted as in Robbins’ storytelling style naturally doesn’t lend itself to clarity of purpose within the material; it is often difficult to find the joke, to distinguish what is context and what is punchline. His comedy lies in the obvious, pointing something out rather than turning it into a larger observation of the context of which that phenomenon exists, which is a shame. He does touch on some larger ideas and issues that if explored in with further depth, could make for an entertaining and insightful hour. But at no point in With the Best Will In The World does he do this.

“Robbins plays it safe”

Despite the initial promise of hard-hitting, shocking humour, this show doesn’t particularly deliver. Robbins noticeably holds back on his material, almost as if he is afraid to push too us and the comedy too far. There’s a noticeable trepidation and self-consciousness to his delivery that dampens any real sense of emotion – whether it’s humour or vulnerability – to the point where he frequently fails to hold our attention and it gets to the point where we feel the occasional flash of boredom creeping in. This can partly be attributed to the rather piecemeal structure of the show, where he flits from anecdote to anecdote without segueing between them in a way that cohesively ties the material together. In such a way, it’s difficult to see the hour as a whole rather than individual 5-15 minute segments. 

Robbins plays it safe and it is to the detriment of this hour. There are some interesting stories here, but at no point is it clear why they’re funny. He isn’t perhaps the mot gifted or natural of storytellers, which comes from not a lack of distinctive ‘voice’ to his narration or comedy, meaning that we’re not given much to hook our attention onto. We leave wanting more but only because we don’t really get much out of the hour itself. 

By Katerina Partolina Schwartz

Photo Credit: Rebecca Need-Menear