The Comedy Crate celebrated its tenth birthday with a firework of a night at the Charles Bradlaugh – one of those shows that boasted two headliners so that our comedic cup ranneth over. They said there would be cake – and there was, plenty of it (I had at least three pieces) – but more than that, it was one of those excellent comedy nights at which the Comedy Crate excel. More power to their combined elbows.

Our host for the evening was Barry Dodds, whom we’ve seen once before, supporting John Bishop at Northampton’s Royal and Derngate in those halcyon days just before Covid. I said at the time that we’d happily see him again, and it’s only taken six years for that wish to come true. He’s a terrific MC, keeping it fresh and cheeky, teasing the front row with just the right level of mischief to entertain everyone without running the risk of offending. However, whether front row Emma and Mukesh are still talking to each other is in doubt after Barry dared Mukesh to propose to her and he steadfastly refused. Time will tell.

First up was the always effervescent and totally unpredictable Russell Hicks. Newly married – and realising that’s the best way to get Instagram clicks – Russell’s truly engaging material that assesses British behaviour and mannerisms as seen from the perspective of his American eyes is always a joy. Lamenting the fact that he’s now had to stoop so low as to perform comedy on cruise ships, he has some great observations about what cruisers are really like; and it took him some time to get over to spell Towcester. A total master of crowd work, we were putty in his hands. An excellent start to the night.

Next up, and new to us, was Leslie Gold, also an American living in Britain, who told us about her passion for crime – not committing it, but fiction, true crime accounts and the like. A self-confessed language nerd, she loves a fascinating place name and an appropriate demonym (look it up, it was new to me too.) Confident and engaging, she delivers at a cracking pace – perhaps sometimes a bit too cracking – and has great, relatable subject matter, but her observations didn’t always land as they should. For me, I felt that her ideas could be reshaped a little so that they develop from wryly amusing facts into true comic material. But I promise never to mispronounce New Jersey again.

Our headliner was the inimitable Honourable Tom Houghton, and he smashed it from the moment he walked on stage. There are quite a few “posh boy” comics at the moment, and I find they can have a tendency towards laziness when it comes to originality and delivery. But Tom is brilliant at this, bathing in his cis white privilege whilst never making the rest of us jealous because of how he exposes the unexpected downsides of his background. He’s not afraid to push at the boundaries either, discussing how far he can engage in racial banter, or confessing that he hates the Irish – I don’t think he does really, but it makes for a terrific routine. He also has the confidence and stage presence to totally control the pace and vibe of his delivery. Having performed most of his set at full tilt, he boldly ended with a much quieter, softer delivery that invited you to consider his very clever choice of language to appreciate the elegant humour of his final material. Absolutely brilliant.

The Comedy Crate are back at the Bradlaugh next month – we can’t go, but you should!