Ouch ...

Ronnie Corbett bemoaned the coarseness and crudity of modern comedy recently, yet one rather doubts he’d seen The Two Wrongies, as the spectacle would have rendered him speechless.

Unquestionably, he and Ronnie Barker spent more hours in women’s clothing than Avis Cockbill and Janine Fletcher will over the festival, their various costumes and comedic conceits (or lack thereof) making this 'dance-based exploration of the female sexual psyche' a god-awful, one-joke phenomenon dragged out over an interminably dull hour.

Quite how witnessing two young women romp intimately together in a university lecture theatre can be so boring I’m still struggling to comprehend. The Wrongies completely underestimate the average audience member’s capacity to be shocked by sex: I would have been caught off guard if there wasn’t a graphic depiction of a blowjob.

And perhaps I’m protesting too much. The pair can dance and they’re wholly committed to their craft. But the idea that the Wrongies are subverting laddism is as irritatingly phoney as the notion of them “accidentally” being booked to perform for schoolchildren.

Some will try to convince you that this tedious show is so outrageous, or outrageously bad even, that it’s actually must-see. But these frauds are imagination-lacking perverts, the worst kind of pervert. The Two Wrongies are the emperor’s new clothes, nothing more and perhaps considerably less, because at least Hans Christian Andersen’s fable had a point.

1 star

The Two Wrongies, if this presses you to go and see it, is on at 10.30pm at the Assembly George Square.

Review written by Jay Richardson