SPENCER JONES: Dogs ★★★★⯨

Try explaining Spencer Jones, even to an astute comedygoer, and you quickly discover that words rather fail you.  This isn't sketch, it's not clowning, and it's definitely not standup, but whatever it is just relax into it.   

Dogs has a dog thread, but anything can happen. Spencer enters carrying three pints in those disposable squashy glasses through an audience door, searches virtually every seat for his friends while muttering that he needs a wee, he dances, then rolls a £50 remote-controlled dog in, before taking an invisible one for a walk. Then changes into a posh dog walker, there is a very long red lead, papier-mâché heads and masks, plus a ventriloquist's dummy head which weirdly develops hands, body and legs.

The audience happily mime eating soup: “A bunch of people trying imaginary soup” Spencer cheerily observes.  We are reminded about Fenton the deer-chasing renegade dog, and of dogs love of squeaky balls, rather long sticks, and tolerance of squirrels.

This gloriously chaotic, eccentric entertainment continues until, suddenly a pause, then matter of factly: “But we're just kids who get old.” And that encapsulates our relationship with Spencer's show.  For all its nonsense, he has once again completely captivated us.  Dogs will remain in our minds until we loyally return for next year’s dose of his unique escapism.

Pleasance Dome, at Edinburgh Fringe: August 2026 ©RoxyReviews