Review – Screaming Blue Murder, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 2nd May 2024

Posted on May 3, 2024 by therealchrisparkle

In the last of the Screaming Blue Murders to be held in the Royal theatre (for a while at least), our indefatigable MC Dan Evans held court as usual over a grateful Northampton audience, getting to know those foolish enough to book Rows A or B. This included the Abington nurse who was out for a good time no matter what, the threateningly tattooed Liam and the splendidly named Harrison who described himself as a “stay-at-home son” – good line, that. We also discovered from the man sat directly in front of me that a pair of ordinary Cheaney shoes will start at around £400. Of course we talked shoes. This is Northampton!

First up, and someone we’ve seen twice before, it was the unpredictable silliness of Paul F Taylor, a naturally funny guy who treads a fine line between the surreal and the stupid; a tactic which can pay off fantastically well sometimes, but occasionally might miss the mark. He gave us his excellent routine about how one of our hands is a reliable type and the other is a useless hanger-on; and I really loved his imagining of how dogs got the worst end of being domesticated pets in comparison to cats, and it’s all down to the expert legal team the cats hired. An unexpected heckle sent him slightly off course, but he ended up with an intricate mime routine which at times I found too difficult to follow, and at others all too easy; you had to see it to believe it. A truly inventive comedy brain, it didn’t entirely go to plan but the bits that did, were brilliant.

Next, and in a change to the scheduled line-up, came Kate Lucas, blessed with a voice that’s all sweetness and light, with a guitar that she’s not afraid to use. We’ve also seen Kate twice before and she never fails to mine good belly laughs from her unexpectedly savage lyrics delivered to gentle folky tunes. It’s amazing quite how bitter and vengeful a tone you can adopt whilst playing what is essentially a lullaby. I remembered a couple of these songs from her previous visits to Northampton – including when she was Tez Ilyas’ support act – but if you haven’t seen her before she’s an absolute treat.

Our headliner, and new to us, was Darius Davies; a confident, edgy performer full of attack and presence, and not afraid to stir some hornets’ nests on stage. Intelligence and a quick wit such as Mr D possesses usually put an audience at ease in the knowledge that they’re going to have a good time. But Mr D challenges us with tricky routines, like getting us all to call out Allahu Akbar, or referring to a section of the audience as autistic; boldly tackling racism and prejudice where angels fear to tread. More than once he really took us out of our comfort zone, and rather like Mr Taylor at the beginning of the evening, some of his material landed on fertile soil and some on stony ground. But he has a very winning way about him and commands great interaction with the audience. Maybe the formal setting of the Royal Theatre isn’t quite the right environment for his act; but it was very enjoyable nonetheless.

Next show is on June 16^th in the luxurious surroundings of Screen 2 of the Filmhouse; and a sensational line-up is promised! There’s still time to bag some excellent seats, so don’t delay!

Review – Julian Clary: A Fistful of Clary, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 17th April 2024

Posted on April 18, 2024 by therealchrisparkle

We’ve been fans of Julian Clary since I can’t remember when; except I can – we saw him as The Joan Collins Fan Club at the Civic Centre Aylesbury (such glamour) around 1988, when I believe Fanny the Wonder Dog was a guest artiste. Times have changed, but Julian, significantly, hasn’t changed much. If you’ve got a winning formula, I guess there’s no point altering it. But it’s important to keep relevant; humour is a constantly evolving thing – you wouldn’t get Bernard Manning on a stage today (OK, I know he’s dead but you get my drift) no matter how technically brilliant a comedian he was (and he most certainly was). Does Julian still offer his punters what they want?

On the whole (and there’s the first of my Claryesque double entendres), yes. A Fistful of Clary sees Julian reimagining himself as a western hero (that’s Wyoming, not Cornwall), so that’s a cue for some spangly cowboy outfits and a backdrop that includes the most phallic cactus you’ve ever seen. Apart from that, the first half is typical Clary, bouncing brilliantly off the audience, gently insulting them to the rafters, ridiculing his assistant, Bertha the lesbian, but it’s all very playful and hilarious. He tells us about his escapades performing on a cruise ship to a bunch of well-meaning geriatrics and fills us in (there’s another) with some amusing reminiscences regarding his appearances in TV’s Taskmaster and The Masked Singer, as well as on stage in Jesus Christ Superstar and Cabaret.

He has a couple of running gags, neither of which work, sadly: allowing himself a brief rest every so often as if he were playing tennis at Wimbledon whilst a pre-recorded pundit gives us commentary-style updates on his performance; and a quick burst of showbizzy music about how everything’s alright which goes nowhere. He gives a heartfelt tribute to his friend the late Paul O’Grady, which is delivered surprisingly tastefully, but is also a repetition of his identical segment in last year’s Palladium pantomime. If you haven’t heard it before, it moves you; however, if he keeps resurrecting it, it might start to feel a little maudlin. He ends the first half with a song written by his panto pal Gary Wilmot, entitled I Love a Knob. It refers to butter. Allegedly.

The second half returns to the Wild West theme with what feels like a gameshow lifted straight out of his old Sticky Moments programme – or indeed, before that, Bruce Forsyth’s Generation Game when the self-styled Balls Pond Road Theatre Club would enact their little plays in which the contestants could humiliate themselves. Six willing-ish gentlemen of all shapes and sizes plucked from the audience joined him on stage, four of whom ended up donning costumes and acting out a modest little tale which culminated in a Western Showdown between Julian and Peter, who works at Barclays, in the role of Bad Norm Lamont. This takes up nearly all the second half, and is – in its highlights – extremely funny, but at other moments feels like treading water. It very much depends on how willing the victims, I mean volunteers, are.

Sadly, a lot of the show felt under par, and indeed, under-prepared. Julian forgot the lyrics during two of his songs, and you could clearly tell that the words to a third were written on the ground in front of him. Even a performer with the enduring seasoned confidence of Mr C occasionally had that startled rabbit in headlights look as he was trying to work out what would happen next. Unfortunately, that’s a killer for a comedy show because if the audience sees the performer failing in any way, it makes us uncomfortable. I wouldn’t want to over-emphasise this, because for 95% of the time he is on his usual crest of a wave. However, he wasn’t tip-top, which is just so unlikely for the big JC.

Is his humour evolving? Perhaps not as much as it should; however, I wasn’t expecting the show to end with a very post-ironic number with the refrain It’s Not Cool to be a Queer, which even name-checks Brianna Ghey, a song that stuns us into a sad silence that not even the arrival of glitter falling from heaven can quite restore. All in all, it’s an unusual evening’s entertainment, not without hilarity and skill, but I’m wondering how much longer this much-loved comedian can make this level of content last.

Review – Mixed Bill Comedy Megashow, Comedy Crate at the Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 13th April 2024

Posted on April 14, 2024 by therealchrisparkle

What’s that phrase about little acorns and big oaks? It was seven years ago when we attended our first Comedy Crate Weekender, held in local Northampton pubs; even then they were getting top quality acts to perform. Now they’ve really hit the big time with two big shows over two nights – Friday at the Milton Keynes Theatre (in collaboration with the Comedy Cow team) and now Saturday in the imposing Derngate auditorium, where most of its 1500 capacity seats were sold. And what a night it was…

Our host for the evening was the deceptively hilarious Boothby Graffoe – I say deceptively, because he comes on stage like he’s dressed for a night in front of the telly, and you ask yourself if this chap is ready for the job ahead – and boy, is he ready. Fantastically self-deprecating, he mines brilliant humour out of his guitar and mouth organ without ever overdoing it; he’ll offer us half a song and leave it hanging with lyrics that deliberately finish early because there’s nowhere else to go with them, and it’s simply side-splitting. He’s adapted one of Tom Lehrer’s patter songs listing loads of countries rattled off at tremendous speed – and then tops it off with a devastating final line; and even his parting words at the end of the show about where you could follow him had us in hysterics. Great work, Mr G.

First out was Marcus Brigstocke; I’ve always loved his comedy, but the last time I saw him he threw a Babybel at me – it was at his Cheese and Whine show at the Edinburgh Fringe and I guess I just whined too much. No matter, all is forgiven, and he gave us a great set featuring concerns about the Royal Family, the difference between news coverage now and in The Good Old Days, and a truly hilarious segment about asking idiots to comment on current affairs: watch out, The Jeremy Vine Show. Packed with terrific observations and quite a few funny voices, it’s intelligent, powerful, thought-provoking comedy that lands every time. A superb start to the night.

Next up was Josie Long, whose Tender show we saw four years ago on tour, a winning and hilarious look at pregnancy and motherhood, mixed with some irresistible left-wing lambasts. Now, she’s still offering comic observations of family life with some very clever and recognisable set-ups. Her wry, quieter style of comedy possibly suits a more intimate environment than the vast Derngate stage and didn’t lead to quite the same level of belly-laughter that the others achieved. Nevertheless, it was an enjoyable set with plenty of great lines.

Our mega-headliner was Omid Djalili, whom we’ve seen many times and never fails to delight. The man irradiates stage presence and had us in the palm of his hand within seconds. He has an unerring ability to lead you up a garden path with a story only to whip it around and take you somewhere completely different. Great use of his own physicality, with his fantastic ear for accents and the power of intonation; but what also comes across is his essential kindness, nowhere seen more clearly than in his valedictory observations about the humour of the late Barry Cryer and Sean Lock. He’s not afraid to tackle very serious subjects head-on; at least twice he discussed with appropriate sobriety the appalling killing that’s taking place in Israel and Gaza, but even then he manages to rein it back and cloak it in a comedy setting, without comprising either the seriousness of the situation or the humour. A truly skilful comedian, and he sent us all home with an uplifted spring in our step.

A great night of comedy. Nice people at the Comedy Crate, can we do it again please?

Review – Comedy Crate at the Charles Bradlaugh, Northampton, 14th March 2024

Posted on March 15, 2024 by therealchrisparkle

Another great fun night at the Charles Bradlaugh Northampton courtesy of those nice people at the Comedy Crate. You can tell the gig is going well because the show had been sold out for quite some time, and the vibe amongst the audience is always excited and fully confident of a good night ahead.

Our host for the evening was the excellent Will Duggan, who hits the ground running with his cheeky repartee and is a master of the audience-based callback. Any material he gathers from the front few rows at the beginning of the evening will inevitably return with a smart comic twist at some point later on. He got to know (as did we all, by association) Sarah the blood machine seller, Amabel whose parents couldn’t spell Annabel, and Kempton and Michael the roving school caretakers. Mr D kept the evening moving at a cracking pace and it was always a pleasure to enjoy his entr’actes.

First up was Mark Bittlestone; at first I thought he was new to us but I remembered seeing him four years ago doing a work in progress show at the Leicester Comedy Festival with comedy partner Haydn Jenkins, and they were a very entertaining combo. Mark appears to be doing more solo work now and he has a very assured and fluid style, but his only subject material was his sexuality, and after a while you rather wish he could move on and talk about something else! He occasionally adopts a strange accent (I think to suggest sarcasm) that personally I found rather alienating. That said, he had plenty of good material – the Yorkshire porn star routine is hilarious – and a warm connection with the audience, and he gave us an enjoyable start to the evening.

Next came Don Biswas, whom we saw at the Edinburgh Fringe last year; he wastes no time in explaining about his dyspraxia, autism and ADHD, all of which he uses wisely in creating some blisteringly funny observations and beautifully delivered one-liners. Through his comedy he really allows us to see inside his world, from his anger at world politics to his frustrations at still living at home aged 39. His winning persona is always upbeat and he builds a terrific rapport with the audience. As the young people of today might say – nailed it, mate.

Our headliner was Jen Brister, whom I was surprised to realise we haven’t seen since 2013, and she has grown into a complete superstar in the art of stand-up. Like Don Biswas before her, you see directly into her life, with superbly recognisable accounts of a 49-year-old woman’s experiences, and brilliant observations about getting older, and the ignominies and horrors of the menopause. All this to put up with, but she can’t quite yet cope with having to wear varifocals. We all laughed our heads off all the time she was on. It was one of those comedy sets where you go home feeling you have a better understanding of the human condition – and loads of laughs got you there.

Rob Auton at the Bradlaugh next week – we can’t go, but you should!

Review – Miles Jupp, On I Bang, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 5th March 2024

Posted on March 6, 2024 by therealchrisparkle

An evening spent in the company of Miles Jupp is always a convivial affair. We saw his Songs of Freedom tour in 2016, a delightful pot pourri of comic observations channelled through his suave gentlemanly persona, where his public school charm turned on a sixpence to deliver unexpectedly downright rude material. His new show, On I Bang, is a much more concentrated affair, telling one complete, true story: his brush with an alarming health scare in 2021.

Picture the scene: having had a pleasantly undemanding day on the set of a TV programme, delivering the words of Jed Mercurio to an eager creative team, he found himself in the unenviable position of suffering from the mother of all brain spasms – a veritable mental explosion of bright lights in his head and incapacity in his body. An undiagnosed brain tumour had started to work its magic and caused a seizure. Mr Jupp takes us through that initial horror and guides us through the next few months of his life, in hospitals, on an operating table and in recovery. And whilst he does create an atmosphere where you have a ghastly sympathy for everything he went through, it’s primarily an account of all the humorous aspects of that awful event.

Mr Jupp is a raconteur par excellence; he knows how to make an occasion out of a chat. It was good to see that he’d made an effort with his appearance – smart suit, nice pink tie, pocket handkerchief and all that; the man treats his audiences with respect, which we consequently return. It occurred to me during the show that he is rather like a heterosexual Julian Clary; full of rather barbed sideways comments, delivered with deliberate, disarming charm, elegant savagery, and frequently fabulous.

He is a master of the passive aggressive remark, which he makes with effortless ease about all manner of people and things, certainly including his own kith and kin. He’s clearly in a happy place with his family, yet he shares his perils about having five children, a wife with a tendency to clutter, a mother who doesn’t know when to stop, and a father-in-law who always knows best.

His exquisitely structured monologue creates a bond between us, so that we completely understand his fears from the whole situation. Not just the life or death stuff, but the more hard-hitting aspects, like whether or not he can still drink alcohol, and the ignominies (not to mention pain) of administering an MRSA swab test and having a catheter removed.

They say that if you don’t know what to write about, write about what you know. If you’re going to suffer a life threatening health-based episode, you might as well make it work for you. Sometimes if you go to a comedy gig and the comedian is using you as therapy for something they’re trying to come to terms with themselves, it can be a tricky and uncomfortable event. That’s not the case here. Rest assured that Mr Jupp is perfectly at ease with everything he’s experienced and is completely in charge of his emotions; not that you would expect anything different from the product of one of the more minor prep schools in Berkshire.

A painstakingly beautifully written show, delivered with deft assuredness and a true feel for the comic potential that lurks under the surface of disaster. Miles Jupp has been banging on about this for a couple of months now, but his tour runs until May and still has several more dates in some of the UK’s most charming locations, although many of them are sold out so you’d better be quick. A brilliant night of comedy!

Review – Screaming Blue Murder, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 2nd March 2024

Posted on March 3, 2024 by therealchrisparkle

Well hello again, old friend. Since the regular Screaming Blue Murder nights in the Underground were suspended due to the RAAC we have missed you very much. Now in the grander setting of the Royal Theatre, prior commitments meant we couldn’t attend the earlier Royal Screaming Blues, but at last we have put this right. A big phew all round! I must confess, I wasn’t sure how the Screaming Blue vibe would adjust to the Royal, but it works superbly – organisers take note, this is a very good combination of show and venue!

And it’s a welcome back to Mr Murder himself, Dan Evans, hosting the proceedings with all the sure-footedness of a mountain gazelle. Just because we’re now in a more formal venue, it doesn’t mean he can’t spy the characters in the first few rows of the audience. Thus we gained a certain degree of insight into phone-fiddler Lee and her ex-train driver husband, the Hunsbury Probation officer, the English teachers from Rugby who missed the last act to get their train, the Nottingham University trainee medics, and someone in telemarketing. That was all much more entertaining than it sounds. Dan was on terrific form with some blazing retorts and all the talk in the foyer and Gents’ toilets was how funny he was. Hope it doesn’t go to his head.

Our first act, and someone we’ve seen many times before, was the excellent Diane Spencer, a self-confessed vision of ginger pallor, whose strength lies in that marvellous contrast between an innocently posh exterior and not-so-posh nor innocent material. She gave us an excruciatingly brilliant routine about pole dancing and didn’t hold back on telling us the details of what can happen under her sheets. She has a wonderfully self-deprecating style and it’s easy to identify with all her stories. A superb start to the night.

Next up, and new to us, was Joshua Bethania, the funniest thing to come out of Bangalore since the last call centre excuse you were told. His delivery is quiet, gently paced and could be mistaken for laid-back; but in fact his set is exquisitely structured, with a wordsmith’s ear for le mot juste, and immaculate timing that nails every joke. Although his material is all from familiar territory, he puts a fresh spin on everything so that it feels completely original. Sometimes the languid approach by a comedian can fall flat on its face, but Mr Bethania uses it with such inventiveness that his act is a joy.

Our headliner was Richard Morton, another familiar face, full of attack right from the start, riffing off the audience with effortless ease, and giving us some truly funny musical parodies. His cost of living crisis version of Eddy Grant was (literally) priceless, and he ends with a hilarious reworking of a Tom Jones classic with which you can’t not join in. I reckon he and second-row-Rob will be besties after their comedy collaboration! You’re in the safest of hands with Mr Morton, guaranteed to make you shake with laughter.

A brilliant night of comedy. The next Screaming Blue Murder will be on 2^nd May – can’t wait!

Review – Phil Wang, Wang in There Baby!, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 20th February 2024

Posted on February 21, 2024 by therealchrisparkle

Another of these shows that were postponed due to the presence of RAAC lurking at the theatre, this is (at least) the third time that Phil Wang has played the Royal and Derngate, but, shamefully, only the first time we’ve seen him. A familiar face on Have I Got News For You and similar TV treats, does he spin the same comedy gold that he shares on television? All will be revealed…

But first, the warm-up act, and the imposing figure and voice of Ed Night; new to us, and he looks like he’s probably about 15 but awfully tall for his age. In fact he’s been doing comedy for ten years and has already had four Edinburgh shows – and you can tell the confidence and experience. He clearly has a very fast brain and the ability to connect well with the audience. It was a shame, then, that he started his set with some very dubious material about mental health and an old joke about OCD that didn’t appeal to me at all and also didn’t hit home with the crowd. However, as he warmed up, so did his material and I loved his observations about Scooby Doo and the way he completely abandoned his prepared material to investigate the presence of three shiny bald heads in the front row. There’s a lot of good comedy in Mr Night – he just needs to ditch the iffy stuff.

On to the main event, and Wang in There Baby, Phil Wang’s most recent tour show that started last March and just has one more airing on 23^rd February at London’s Eventim Apollo, no less. Performing in front of unfurled, Chinese-influenced, banner flags artistically announcing his name, his quiet unassuming style and relaxed physical presence lull us all into a sense of security – not a false sense, as Mr Wang never leads us down surprise garden paths or tricks us into believing something that he then proves to be untrue. You sense he’s a truly honest performer!

He’s excellent at contrasting the two cultures that he knows about – his Malay/Chinese upbringing on the island of Borneo, and the southern English teenage years and adulthood that followed. He’s also a choice wordsmith; developing very cleverly prepared sequences with le mot juste for every occasion. This allows him to tackle some quite challenging subjects but always with delicacy and lightness of touch: no better example than his singing along to Kendrick Lamar hip-hop tracks replacing the n-word with something more suitable.

Phil Wang’s gift is to take a genuinely tiny idea and expand it into something hilarious for a prolonged exploration. For him, big oaks truly do grow from little acorns. The simple observation that Brits don’t reheat rice, for instance, flourishes into a good fifteen minutes’ worth of classic cultural comedy. There’s a brilliant examination of how the contrast between British and American pronunciation of the same word can have a joyfully funny effect. At his best, Mr W is a great example of the less is more approach to comedy, and that’s often quite hard to find. And whilst I wouldn’t exactly call it a family show, it’s very refreshing to come across a comedy performer who rarely goes anywhere near a swear word.

Having seen him once, I’m sure this won’t be the last time!

Review – Pierre Novellie, Why Can’t I Just Enjoy Nice Things? Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 18th February 2024

Posted on February 20, 2024 by therealchrisparkle

Do you ever get the feeling that some things are just Not Meant To Be? Pierre Novellie’s performance of his Why Can’t I Just Enjoy Nice Things? tour was originally scheduled for last November in the Underground but postponed due to the ongoing fight against the RAAC in the building. Moved to February, it then had to be transferred first to the Royal, and then to the relatively unlikely venue of Screen Two at the adjacent Northampton Filmhouse. A stand-up show in a plush, luxury cinema screen? Surely the vibe won’t work. Update: a good comedian will make this venue work absolutely fine!

Then, seven minutes before whatever is the stand-up equivalent of Curtain Up, the fire alarms sound. Evacuation from the building; not only Screen Two, but also Screen One and the Derngate auditorium, where one can only assume the pyrotechnics of The Greatest Hits of Motown got a little out of hand. Very well marshalled and looked after by the R&D staff by the way, top marks to you all. False alarm; we all returned to our seats. Thus Pierre Novellie’s show battled on bravely, fifteen minutes late in an unconventional venue. Then it became clear that his microphone didn’t work properly. Mr Novellie’s rich dulcet tones were coming across all tinny and that would have been tough for an hour and twenty minutes. Then he tried dispensing with the microphone completely – fine for us in the third row but perhaps not so great if you were at the back. Ten minutes later a replacement microphone was found. Result – success! And then the show could really get going. But that was a difficult start for Mr N and a less experienced comic could well have been thrown by it all.

But not Pierre Novellie. He has a smart, confident air about him without ever suggesting anything pompous or condescending; naturally likeable, he gets a very good rapport going with the audience which quickly overcame any of the shortcomings of the venue. Why Can’t I Just Enjoy Nice Things? was his Edinburgh Fringe show from 2022, and he explained that our performance would be its final outing.

The title of his show echoes the internal questionings that try to explain and rationalise what’s going in his head. He’s a 60% man; that’s the percentage at which he tends to appreciate things. To him that’s an honest and perfectly decent satisfaction level; the same as six out of ten, or three (maybe three and a half) stars on an advertising billboard, signifying a completely agreeable experience. But, as he points out, that’s a score that’s of no use to anyone. He also knows that when you’re asked, in a romantic setting, what are you thinking about, the last thing you must reply is the truth – i.e. nothing, which is absolutely what nearly all men are thinking about most of the time.

This is intelligent, sophisticated comedy, full of great observations and reflections covering a wide range of subjects that include the crying-laughing emoji and Berlin’s notorious P*ss Goblin (Google it if you dare). He has a beautifully narrated experience of attending a performance of The Play That Goes Wrong seated next to the audience member from Hell, and a unique way of defining the public that manages to exclude us from it so that we remain on “his side” of the argument throughout. I also loved his account of how accurately you set your morning alarm when you go to bed really late – and the downside of so doing; it’s something that everyone can recognise.

It’s a superbly crafted show elegantly delivered using pinpoint perfect language selected to have the maximum effect. Mr N is truly on the up-and-up; he’s already touring again with last year’s Edinburgh Fringe hit, Why Are You Laughing? I think the answer to that question would be obvious.

Review – Comedy Crate Thursday Night at the Charles Bradlaugh, Northampton, 8th February 2024

Posted on February 9, 2024 by therealchrisparkle

It’s another regular Thursday night at the Bradlaugh and a full house to boot, which always oomphs the atmosphere up a bit. For this month’s extravaganza those nice people at the Comedy Crate booked a terrific line up of comedians, two of which we’d seen before and two whose faces were as fresh as daisies (to us, anyway.)

Our host for the evening was Tom Toal, whom we last saw in the very same venue eleven months ago providing the very same service! And he’s a true master of the art. As well as getting to know key members of the audience, such as the two M&S food auditors (nice work if you can get it), reticent front row James, pirate Tariq and university lecturer Marco, he also told us about his unexpected new best friend and the joys of seeing women’s football at Charlton Athletic. A very safe pair of hands, he kept the evening moving at an excellent pace and contributed much more to our enjoyment than your average MC.

We hit the ground running on a total high with our first act, Lindsey Santoro, who never fails to delight with her bold but completely recognisable material. She’s one of those comedians who tackles those areas where angels fear to tread – why she is a failed lesbian, everything you wanted to know about breast feeding but were afraid to ask, and ending with a riotous sequence about smear tests. Her great trick is to appeal directly to the women in the audience with her choice of topics, whilst never alienating the men because it’s all so understandable and relatable. She has an immensely likeable stage presence and kicked the night off like a dream.

Our second act, and new to us, was Jack Skipper; very well-known, I understand, in TikTok circles, which is something of which I know nothing. He has a great story about being recognised from his online work whilst doing his old day job of carpet fitting – one of the best in Croydon and its environs, according to Trustpilot. He has an easy way about him and is very engaging with his entertaining material, including his plans to take revenge on his children in the future, and he’s excellent when relating the highs and lows of co-existing with his workmates. I thought that perhaps his set could have been a little more finely structured so that he ended it on a high; the last five minutes or so just slowed down to a gently ambling conclusion. But there’s a lot of great material there.

Our headliner, and also new to us, was Dan Tiernan; and if you enjoy your comedy with a laid back, relaxed, sophisticated style, Dan’s not your man. He’s dyspraxic, and not afraid to exploit it for every possible comedic opportunity. As a result, he spends most of his time on stage thumping and jumping around like a naughty ten-year-old who’s had way too much sugar before bedtime; but it does also make you think that maybe that imaginary ten-year-old isn’t really naughty – he has dyspraxia. Lurking behind that frenetic exterior is a wealth of fantastic material and some of his lines are absolute killers – I especially liked his explanation for why watching porn has ruined him. He doesn’t appeal to everyone, but if you like his style, you’ll love his act.

Plenty more Comedy Crate gigs coming up in the next few weeks – sadly, we can’t manage some of them but we’re looking forward to the next Bradlaugh night on 14^th March!

Review – Sarah Millican, Late Bloomer, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 24th January 2024

Posted on January 26, 2024 by therealchrisparkle

When Sarah Millican graces the stage of the Derngate auditorium it’s always something to look forward to – often for at least a year! This is the fourth time we’ve seen her, and each time she packs out the audience, delivering what you can only describe as an abundance of joy. For her latest show, Late Bloomer, she hangs the concept on the show on whether you were a late bloomer (as which she identifies) or an eager beaver, and Ms M has a handy list of clues to help you assess whereabouts on the scale you are. I too identified as a late bloomer, but with little tinges of eager beaverness around the edges.

Through the course of a couple of hours, she explores all sorts of domestic and – let’s not beat about the bush (one of her favourite words) – sexual situations. A night with Sarah Millican is not for the prudish. If you’re expecting a discourse on culture and the arts, you might be a trifle disappointed. You will, however, get great insight into the various levels of painful or excitable reactions that her vagina undertakes on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Not that she often calls it a vagina, mind you. I did reflect with some amusement how different it would be if a bloke came on stage to a house packed full of mainly blokes and spent two hours discussing the various shenanigans his willy got up to on the average day.

However, the boot’s on the other foot, and Sarah Millican is the supreme creative artist where it comes to the comedy of womanly woes. No aspect of the female anatomy is taboo as she mines terrific laughs out of sizes and shapes, sweatiness, smells and all manner of bodily fluids.

We explored the weird content of other people’s bags; those items that were confessed to on Wednesday were two mint tea bags, a podger (they really exist), and a “cock bottle opener.” After some questioning, Ms Millican elicited that this was a bottle opener that looked like a cock as opposed an opener for a “cock bottle”. We learned about the unexpected downside of switching your mobile provider to O2. The ladies in the audience (who were by far in the majority) were asked to grade the underwear they were wearing on the night from 1 (new) to 6 (far from new). Mrs Chrisparkle quietly admitted to a 2. We heard about how an orgy could resemble a car park (you had to be there) and the only possible reason for carrying some stilton around with you.

Sarah Millican treads a tightrope of material that is hugely larger than life and accentuates the utter ridiculousness of the human condition – yet at the same time is completely believable and recognisable, so that the audience rises to the challenge of becoming its own self-help group. For two hours she has us in the palm of her hand. She’d probably then clean us off with a wet wipe because we were sticky and disgusting.

Late Bloomer enjoys two nights at the Royal and Derngate this January and is returning in September, but there are only a handful of seats left for that gig. The tour continues throughout the UK and Ireland and a few Europe dates as well, right through to November. She may be a late bloomer but she’s making the most of it now.