MIKE RICE: CRUEL LITTLE MAN
Edinburgh Festival Fringe
★★★★
“to his absolute credit he shirks on dignity and goes big on gross-out laughs”
Irish comedian and semi-famous podcaster (YOU should relax) Mike Rice is bringing his hour of stand-up, Cruel Little Man, to Edinburgh, and it does not disappoint.
As the title suggests, this is no-holds barred comedy. Rice’s initial musings are on Hitler – “I oft think of Hitler” is the segue – and P Diddy, whose worst crime was being an accessory to James Corden during carpool karaoke. Before the show has even begun he’s threatening to milk a big fella in the front row. But being a self-professed ‘Cruel Little Man’, Rice rarely goes for the cheap joke, almost all his material has a well-earned payoff, scaffolded by extremely impressive storytelling and masterful pacing.
Rice is a very physical comedian, and he stands out through his commitment to every character he embodies onstage to decorate his stories of misadventure. Nino, a coy Spanish sausage dog, comes to life, as does Zachariah, the frigid, put-upon bible scribe who takes out his frustration on generations of gay people. A classic Rice impression, Donald Trump, does his rounds, making new friends in prison, as does the non-binary wizard/political consultant in his head, one of the best jokes of the night.
Since Rice’s extra show was in one of Edinburgh’s massive lecture theatres in Assembly Square, it was only right that, in between the jokes and the gaffes, he made sure that we came away with some important lessons. Like how to get MDMA through airport security, and which male erogenous zones are being sadly overlooked. Rice is not afraid to paint a visceral picture, there’s a really nice buildup to a bestiality-themed bit in there, he talks about his own asshole quite a lot. He mimes playing a severed penis like a harmonica – to his absolute credit he shirks on dignity and goes big on gross-out laughs.
My only qualm would be that his set could feel a bit top heavy. Starting with his most shocking material means that there’s a bit of a lull in the middle when Rice moves on to more relatable comedy, like the perils of dating and lonely cinema trips. It’s still very funny, but doesn’t quite provoke the same combination of shock and hysteria that kicked off his set. Trump’s prison escapades are a return to controversial form towards the end of the set, and Rice rounds off during a poignant acid-fuelled moment between brothers with a well-placed callback that left the audience feeling satisfied.
Overall, through a combination of well-paced storytelling, committed physical comedy and close to the mark punchlines, Mike Rice proves himself to be a cruel, but extremely funny, little man.
MIKE RICE: CRUEL LITTLE MAN
Edinburgh Festival Fringe
Reviewed on 13th August 2025 at Gordon Aikman Theatre at Assembly George Square
by Emily Lipscombe
