Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It is eleven months since we last attended a mixed bill night at the Charles Bradlaugh – where does the time go?! Fortunately, we chose a stonker of a good night to make our return – and we were joined by a packed house of happy return customers for a truly rip-roaring night of comedy.
Our host was Kelly Convey, whom we haven’t seen since the golden days of Covid, on one of those surprisingly successful Zoom gigs and in the garden of the Black Prince pub. She’s a warm, friendly and ebullient presence who instantly gets the crowd on her side – bless her for thinking that Northampton is classier than Chatham – with engaging stories about attending childbirths and how life has changed since she rapidly became a mother of three. She generated a positive and supportive vibe to the evening’s proceedings which really helped the show go with a bang!
First up, and someone we’ve seen many times before, was the irrepressible Jack Gleadow, an impish presence with a quirky voice and hilarious comedic creativity. For much of the act he responded to musical cues from easily recognised pop tunes; something we’ve seen him do before, but it’s always brilliant – I love how he uses Popcorn to accompany dating app usage, and his observations on how men and women respond differently to swiping are brilliantly revealing. Terrific at engaging with the crowd, he brought two chaps up from the audience, the willingly good sport Paul and the bemused Jamie, for a jolly bum-slapping routine – all I can say is, you had to be there. Wonderfully self-deprecating and quick thinking, he’s always a joy to watch.
Next came Darius Davies, whom we saw headlining a Screaming Blue Murder show a couple of years ago, but with a very different selection of material. Using his Iranian heritage as an appropriately timely introduction to his set, he took us through two cringingly and riotously funny stories. First, when he posed as a woman on a dating app to find out what it’s like for a woman to deal with the kind of comments men dish out; and then a delicious account of revenge served cold after Ryanair were unhelpful and expensive over charging him for a boarding card. Beautifully delivered, with a sting in its tail, he is a master of intelligent comedy presented with a serious message lurking just beneath the surface; and the audience loved him.
Our headliner was, in many respects, the complete opposite, the totally wacky Spencer Jones, whose act is made up of short, seemingly unconnected vignettes, sometimes surreal, sometimes ecstatically funny, always totally ludicrous. There was clearly an element of work-in-progress with many of his ideas being tried out, but we were willing guinea pigs for his daftness. What separates Mr J from many other surreal or absurd performers, is that he makes it clear that he knows what he’s doing is absurd and recognises that we find it absurd too, but he’ll nevertheless continue doing it. Our favourite short sketch was the totally pointless but completely recognisable “man with three beers”; I also enjoyed his “may I taste your soup” routine, especially as I unfortunately made a bit of a song-and-dance over describing the ingredients in my vegetable soup to him. Not all of his ideas worked completely, but those which did, were hysterical.
The next Comedy Crate at the Bradlaugh night is May 14th – we can’t make it but hopefully you can. And it definitely won’t be another eleven months till we make a reappearance!