This was another show that we’d booked so long ago that it changed its name in the meantime. Two years elapsed between the initial booking and the actual event! And what was originally Populist became Vicked – although the title is only a serving suggestion of what the show contains – which is Another Evening in the Company of Tez Ilyas Doing his Thing. And a very funny Thing it is.
Tez Ilyas is one of the few performers that I feel comfortable referring to by their first name. Not Mr Ilyas, nor Mr I (which is how I normally refer to comics when I’ve already mentioned their name a few times), but Tez. And that’s because he forms such a sincere connection with his audience that you really feel like you and he are old mates. It’s partly the courtesy that he extends by always coming out on to the stage first for a little chat with us all before introducing his support act; it’s partly the fact that stays behind after the show for a photo and a chat; it’s partly that his delivery is so fluent and genuine that everything he says you believe is true. He refers to us as his Tezbians, which also grants us some familiarity rights. Within a few seconds of coming on stage, he’s brought up two lads from the front row who are from different groups but for all the world look like they’re brothers (and they really did). In that simple act, he brought us all together, united in one purpose, to make a judgment call on these two lads – and we remain united throughout the rest of the show. The audience becomes a very comfortable, safe place, and you just know you’re in for a good time.
And yes, we did indeed have an excellent support act in the capable hands (and plectrum) of comedy-musician Kate Lucas, whom we saw at a Screaming Blue Murder a few years ago. She’s like a coiled serpent with her easy, gentle appearance, delicately beautiful voice, and viperous lyrics to her brilliant songs. She sings us songs of acerbity and Schadenfreude, of revenge and malice, and the audience loves her for it. She even gets us to join in a singalong of dubious taste. It’s all very inventive and very funny, and it was great to see her again.
After the interval, Tez returned to the stage and gave us a good hour-and-three-quarters of top quality material, expertly delivered. This was the fourth time we’ve seen him live – the last time was at the Edinburgh Fringe in 2017 – and he’s truly evolved as a stand-up of immense confidence, linguistic skill and an enviable ability to trade good-hearted banter with anyone and everyone. One minute he hits just the perfect note of self-deprecation, the next he’s on an outrageous attack against someone else and it’s such a cunning blend of humour that you never know what’s coming next. I loved his segment when he played NHS Top Trumps – identifying all the audience members who work for the NHS (there were five) and working out which one most deserved the Thursday Night Minute of Applause. Not only does this allow him to gently tease the audience, and himself, it also opens up the field of political satire, at which Tez excels.
And then, of course, there’s the whole subject of racism, which constantly crops up in his material somehow or another, and he plays it perfectly, using humour not only to show its ridiculousness and cruelty, but also how easy it can be to fall foul of it oneself. He does a wonderful deconstruction of the terms BAME and POC – no matter how politically correct those terms may be, they’re pretty awful. He jests of cultural appropriation when any other ethnic group is involved in terrorism; and he admits to being stumped when it comes to dealing with a cis straight white male who’s neither fat nor ginger. He has a brilliant way of turning prejudice on its head, that not only reveals so much about the human condition but also is just so bloody funny.
There are just a few more dates remaining on this tour – if you’re in any doubt about whether to go – OMA! It’s a humdinger of a show and seventy-two hours later I’m still laughing at it. Fantastic!
This was the third time that a bunch of us descended (well, I suppose, ascended, considering the direction of travel) on Leicester for the last weekend of their famous Comedy Festival. Mrs Chrisparkle and I played host to Lord and Lady Prosecco, Professor and Mrs Plum, and Prinz Mark von Köln. Sadly Lord Liverpool was indisposed due to ill health, so he was tucked up in bed whilst the Countess of Cockfosters peeled him grapes. However, the remaining Magnificent Seven were greeted by beautiful sunshine and a light lunch at Pret a Manger, before heading into our first show.
Ban*na C*nts, (Work in Progress), Sian Docksey and Zoe Tomalin, Heroes @ Apres Lounge, 1pm 23rd February
Sian Docksey and Zoe Tomalin are two lively and welcoming young ladies who admit straight off that they made a mistake with the marketing. If you Google the title of their show (rest assured I have not done so, gentle reader) then you might expect you were going to see something completely different. Instead of plantain porn, we got 25 minutes or so in the company of each comic, giving us some work in progress to see how it landed.
On the whole, it landed very well. The best of the material came from Ms Docksey’s inspired consideration about the relationships between the chess pieces; I shan’t spoil it for you, but we were all hooting with laughter. There’s also a nice sequence where, in an attempt to redress the inequalities of the sexes in the workplace, men’s leadership meetings have been replaced with followship sessions. Needs a tiny bit of work, but it’s a great idea. I also loved the idea that being bisexual could be considered gay of centre.
Ms Tomalin created a lot of humour from her diminutive stature, and had a promising sequence about bra sizing, which I hope she develops (please don’t take that the wrong way.) Together they form an enjoyable partnership, although they work apart more than they work together. A very enjoyable way to start the day – in a Swiss Chalet in Leicester High Street. (No, honestly.)
Roisin and Chiara, Back to Back, Heroes @ Apres Lounge, 2.20pm 23rd February.
Next up – and in the same Swiss Chalet, with building work noise thumping away in the background, were Roisin O’Mahony and Chiara Goldsmith with their Edinburgh show from last year, Back to Back. I had read some reviews and had advised the group that sitting in the front row was probably not a good idea for this show. However, there’s absolutely no point trying to hide from these two ladies as they scour the entire audience for their prey no matter where you sit.
Prey sounds a bit cruel; it isn’t cruel at all, in fact it’s absolutely brilliant. Hugely confident, and with terrific strange presence, they present an hour of total anarchy and it’s a completely beautiful thing. Welcoming us into their lofty chalet, they assess us like two weirdos over the garden fence; then they discuss their own relationships; Roisin becomes a wolf; they stuff their mouths with marshmallows, and straddled Stephen from the fourth row (I told you there was no hiding place). Even Professor Plum had a young lady perched on his knee for some of the show. They have a range of wacky characters and voices that they adopt throughout the hour; most of it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever but who cares, it’s a sheer delight to wallow in it. We all loved them, and I’d very happily seek them out in future shows.
Then it was time to check-in at the Mercure Grand, our usual city centre abode, to enjoy a short pause and some private regrouping before meeting again for the rest of the day’s programme.
Henry Paker, Man Alive, The Cookie, 5pm 23rd February
I’d never heard of Mr Paker but we took a look at his reviews and thought this sounded a safe bet. Boy, were we right. Man Alive is the show he took to Edinburgh last summer, and is a beautifully structured, cleverly created combination of his skills as a stand-up comic, talking about married life and life in general, and his skills as a designer and illustrator.
Running through his routine as a unifying thread is a cartoon story about David, his clocks and how he’d spend his time with Nobody – it’s charming, funny and revealing. But I particularly enjoyed his material about middle class angst; deciding which is the most middle-class word in the English Language – I won’t spoil it for you, but he’s completely right and I spent the rest of the weekend self-consciously saying it to annoy the rest of our party. Amongst the rest of his material, he has some great sequences about how, although it’s lovely to spend time with his wife, it’s even lovelier to spend time without her.
He has a very relaxed and measured delivery and he’s not at all scared of leaving the occasional pause or silence, which is a mark of someone who is completely in control of their material. The hour flew by and we all agreed he is someone we have to see again!
Just the Tonic’s Saturday Night Comedy Club – Special Guest Compere, Hansom Hall, 8.30pm 23rd February
After a delicious dinner at the Kayal Indian Restaurant, we took a step back to two years ago when we saw Johnny Vegas compere a brilliant night of comedy at the Hansom Hall. He was creative, anarchic, unpredictable and a complete comedy genius. We’ll have to have another helping of that, we said. But sometimes, the old saying goes, don’t go back a second time, because you might be disappointed. And that, sadly, was the truth, gentle reader. The idea behind the presentation of this year’s special was that it would be “tag team” compering, between Johnny Vegas and Just the Tonic supremo, Darrell Martin. In practice, that meant that Johnny would do the majority of the compering and Darrell would step in when Johnny was just getting too out of hand. As a concept, it didn’t really work, because Johnny’s faithful followers didn’t want Darrell interrupting, and the bickering between the two presenters – even if it was faux-aggressive – came over as genuinely acrimonious, and not conducive to humour.
However, the big problem was that Johnny and Darrell had spent the afternoon in the pub and Johnny was distinctly worse for wear. Those creative flights of fancy from two years ago were snuffed out and replaced by uninteresting self-indulgence, and it became apparent pretty early on that this was not going to be the highlight of the weekend that we had hoped for. Indeed, someone heckled Johnny Vegas to the effect that they’d wasted their £15 for a ticket (which, to be fair, is toppy for the Festival, although not for a 150 minute show), and I couldn’t help but agree with him.
It was a shame because it put a dampener on the superb guest line-up. First up was Tez Ilyas, one of my favourite comic performers; because JV hadn’t got too out of hand by that stage, he was probably least affected of all the guests. Mr I gave us a lot of material that he has used before, but it’s ok because it’s so funny and he always does it with such a knowing twinkle in his eye. I loved his new definition of scoring 10 on the “I approve of ISIS scale”.
A new name, who was given a ten-minute slot to impress, was Matt Bragg; and I have to agree with everyone else, he is definitely One to Watch. Self-effacing, effortless, quirky and with some original material, he was a breath of fresh air and I would have loved to see more of his stuff and less from Mr Vegas. Another familiar performer was Jonny Awsum; always reliable with his musical comedy, although again with material that we have seen a number of times. Because his comedy can come across as quite silly and childlike, it felt wrong that he littered his set with lots of bad language – I’ve seen him perform before with no swearing and he’s funnier that way.
With a high reputation, and the last guests on, came The Noise Next Door, an improvisation group of four performers who act out sketches and sequences at the whim of whatever the audience chooses to chuck at them. They were excellent and we would happily see more of them another time too. The Lithuanian sketch was particularly brilliant, although that’s partially because of some inspired audience participation.
We left before seeing JV wind up the show so that we could get to our final venue on time.
Late Night Jokes On Us, Manhattan Bar, 11.30pm 23rd February
We really enjoyed this late night show last year so thought we’d try it this year too. Again, it didn’t quite come up to the standard of 2018, but there was still much to enjoy. Hard-working and upbeat host Alex Hylton introduced us to five acts, none of whom we had seen before.
First up, Rob Mulholland is, literally, a giant of comedy and I could see why he has such a great reputation. Full of fun and good-hearted attack, he had some enjoyable material and an excellent stage presence. Next was Lovdev Barpaga, whom we nearly saw in Edinburgh last year – but didn’t quite. He was crowned UK Pun Champion in 2017 and I can see why. His show is called Pun-Jabi, and he gave us ten minutes of puntastic hysteria. Really funny material and a very likeable guy.
Next was a comic whose name I didn’t properly catch, but I believe his first name was Rahul. He started promisingly, but then gave us some material based on the fact that he has a lisp; and once he’d done that, all we could hear was his lisp and not his material. As he realised the laughs weren’t flowing, he allowed himself to lose confidence, and, I’m afraid, it ended up as a pretty painful onstage death. Shame, as I’m sure he has the basis of a good act there. My advice, ignore the lisp!
Last two comics were Adam Beardsmore, who also had a very assertive and strong stage presence, with some good material; and Jack Topher, who rounded the evening off very well, but I have to confess late-night tiredness had set in and I can’t remember that much of what happened. He was good though!
The next morning we were all a bit tired because not only had we had something of a late night, but also a 6.40am fire alarm got us all scuttling out of bed and scrambling on a few clothes so that we stood in the hotel car park for about forty five minutes. No fire, but lots of firemen, which was reassuring.
Anita Elizabeth Holmes Presents, Upstairs at Kayal Restaurant, 2pm 24th February
That’s a thoroughly useless title for a sequence of comedy shows at the festival because you haven’t got a clue who you’re going to see. In fact, we spent an hour with two excellent Welsh comics.
First up was Lorna Pritchard, an ex-news reporter on Welsh TV, now full-time comedian, who struck up an excellent rapport with the audience with her cheery disposition and likeable presence. Having established that the majority of the audience either came from, or had a significant attachment to, Liverpool, she proceeded to tell one of the best jokes of the weekend about the Scouse bouncer who watched her reverse her bumper into another parked car. Very enjoyable, frothy, pleasantly undemanding humour.
The second act was Drew Taylor, a large, lugubrious presence, who told his anecdotes about life in Wales with a very strong accent to which I couldn’t always quite attune myself. But his material is excellent, and his slow and sure delivery adds to that slight caricature of a dour Welsh comic. Again, very enjoyable, and lots of laughs.
Kevin Precious, Unholier than Thou, Upstairs at Kayal Restaurant, 3.20pm 24th February
Next up – and what a find! Subtitled The Non-Believing Religious Studies Teacher, Kevin Precious takes us through life as an agnostic trying to steer his school pupils through the intricacies of comparative religion; and it’s comedy genius. From the disruptions of unwilling students, to the complex expectations of parents, it’s a fascinating insight into being simply the wrong person for the job. Mr Precious has a brilliant style of delivery; very active and energetic, with some hilarious characterisations and a superb, step-by-step dismemberment of organised religion. Now a humanist, he has a much more enlightened understanding of the world around us. I loved his excellent take on the how miracles might be considered to happen; and his general desire for empirical proof over superstition is the source for a lot of great material. Definitely One to Watch.
After a little afternoon coffee and cake it was time for our final show.
Eshaan Akbar, Prophet while it’s Hot, The Cosy Club, 6pm 24th February
We’d seen Mr Akbar supporting Dane Baptiste in Northampton a couple of years ago, so I knew he had a great comic delivery and lovely ability to take the Mickey out of himself. This is his Edinburgh show of last summer, where he basically deconstructs the content of the Quran and reveals himself to be as much an infidel as the rest of us. Taking us through some of the most important passages of the Holy Text, and the advice of the Five Pillars of Islam, he creates a hilarious blitz of the faith. Nevertheless, he also emphasises all its kindly, loving aspects, which he highlights with the hilarious account of burying his mother – he agrees, it shouldn’t really be a source for comedy, but it really is. In fact, we found a lot of his personal accounts very moving. He was a little unsure of the presence of a couple of distinctly middle-aged Muslims in the front row, whom he nicknamed Uncle and Auntie –– but they were loving it like the rest of us. An excellent, enlightening and informative show, and a terrific way to end our weekend. We’ll be back next year!
Next up is a comic whom we saw earlier in the year and I am officially a major fan – I mean, Tezbian. Yes, it’s Tez Ilyas: Teztify at Beside @ Pleasance Courtyard, at 20:30 on Monday 21st. Read the blurb: “Tez Ilyas feels like he’s constantly on trial. It’s time to teztify against all the assumptions the world has of him. Armed with his trademark cheek and uncompromising approach, don’t miss this slick, smart and typically subversive show. Star of BBC Radio 4’s TEZ Talks, BBC Two’s Live from the BBC and BBC Three’s Man Like Mobeen. ‘Ilyas has a slickness more reminiscent of US comics, and the gags to back it up’ (Guardian). ‘Radiantly entertaining’ **** (Times). ‘A vital discussion of some of the most difficult issues facing this country’ **** (Telegraph).”
I’m really looking forward to this one – Tez makes such a brilliant connection with the audience, pointing out all the racist pitfalls that lurk beneath the surface of our modern society. It’s an hour of new material, so check back around 9.45pm to see how much we enjoyed it. By then the next preview blog should be available to read too.
Tez on brilliant form- making some very hard points, sometimes to shuddering effect. Very funny, and very memorable.
We have a specific spot we like to sit for the comedy shows at the Underground, gentle reader. They normally have two banks of chairs – three or four rows at the front, then a gap, then the seats at the back. I like to take the back row of the front bank – and sit on the aisle – that way you’re close enough to the action to feel involved but sufficiently far away not to get roped in. Usually. Imagine my disappointment on entering the Underground for Saturday night’s Tez Ilyas show to discover the front bank of chairs was just one row deep. A front row glistening in glamorous isolation. No chance. We instinctively sat on the front row of the back seats. No one sat in front of us.
Enter Mr Ilyas for his welcoming introduction. I knew what he was going to say. Our seating positions as a group were not acceptable. He said he’d turn his back and count from 1 – 10 in Urdu and when he turned around he expected everyone to have moved one row forward. He did so. And so did we! It was a very nice start to our audience/performer relationship: he delivered, we responded. One thing though – it meant we were catapulted to the front row. Dang my breeches!
We saw Tez when he did Screaming Blue Murder here last October, when he mistook Northampton for Peterborough (ouch!) and then slagged off our cricket team (double ouch!!) – and it’s fascinating to discover that he remembered those schoolboy errors, as though they keep coming back like a nightmare. I reckon Mr I probably keeps a collection of his faux pas in a box under the stairs and takes them out every so often for a happy reminisce – he strikes me as that kind of guy.
But that’s probably at the heart of why his stand-up is so endearing. He comes across as just a regular guy; no airs or graces, no persona he’s hiding behind – just the real him and as a result you feel as though you really understand him and his life after an hour and a half in his presence. Most other comedians I’ve seen and enjoyed weave imaginary material into their real-life experience to create a funnier version of the truth. But you get the feeling that absolutely everything Mr I says is the truth, and nothing but. Even if it isn’t, and he’s pulling the wool over our eyes, that’s a real gift.
I use the word “welcoming” in the second paragraph in two ways; first, it was a general welcome as we’d just arrived, none of us had met and he was being polite and offering the comic equivalent of canapes and cocktails. (No cocktails; alcohol has never passed his lips. Well, almost never…) But his style is also welcoming; he doesn’t ever make you feel uncomfortable, even when he’s talking directly to you (who’s my MP? What am I drinking? What’s my favourite Disney film? Where do I rank ISIS on the scale of despicability? I confessed all) You imagine at home he’d be the most gracious host. He seems genuinely chuffed that we came out to see him.
After he’d got us at our ease – and we’d played musical chairs – he introduced us to his support act, the fantastic Guz Khan. We’d seen Mr Khan with Johnny Vegas at the Leicester Comedy Festival earlier in the year and he’s a revelation. An ex-teacher, you know with that commanding presence the kids would have sat up and listened (well, I would have). He has brilliant material harking back to his school teaching days; but also really clever edgy observations such as the surprise use for a WhatsApp group and also his unconditional love for all his children. Mrs Chrisparkle and I were genuinely delighted when we realised he was coming on, and he went down a storm. Even if he did say I laughed like Jimmy Savile. (I don’t.)
The second part of the show was solo Tez, taking us through his life and experiences and opening up a whole new understanding between different racial backgrounds and cultural practices – but underlining that we’re all Made in Britain. He plays with his name; we are his Tezbians, even though at home he is not Tehzeeb; he said it meant the Scourge of Beelzebub or something like that but I Googled it and what he didn’t say is that it’s a girl’s name, so no wonder. He has telling, competitive material about not being mistaken for an Indian – catering industry observations aside. He points out the nonsense (that I’d never considered) that the Jungle Book characters are all voiced with classical western accents (viz. “Shere Khan: How delightful”) – how stupid is that? He talks about his unlikely but ultimately disappointing experience with Tinder and I absolutely get where he’s coming from. And there’s so much more. Primarily you come away with an understanding of how the openly Asian Tez has precisely the same aspirations, foibles and concerns as anyone else – including that tricky subject of how you refer to another race. Personally, I really don’t like the phrase “people of colour” because we’ve all got a colour of sorts, so what the hell does that mean? Tez has his own observations on this and some rather delectably embarrassing examples. But I’m not going to tell you about all his material because a) I can’t remember it, b) it’s not mine to tell and c) it’ll ruin it for the rest of you. Trust me though that the time flies by.
Very likeable, very funny and with instantly recognisable observations about how we all rub along together – or not. Truly the comedy of revelation; you may well come out of this show a different person from the one who went in, and there is no finer compliment I can pay to a performer! There are only a few more dates left in his tour but he’s got a new show coming up in Edinburgh this summer and I’m pretty sure we’ll be catching it. Highly recommended!
Once again we were back at the Underground for another Screaming Blue Murder night. This time we were accompanied by our distinguished guests, the Sheriff of Shenstone and Lady Lichfield, who had already had a skinful in the Bar Hygge before the show. (If you’ve not tried it, it has a great trendy feel so the four of us fitted in perfectly, naturally.) Also once again, it’s great to see that the show had sold out – and why not, as you get such a great range of comedy at such a decent price.
Our host as usual was the enthusiastic Mr Dan Evans, who had the task of working out why one large section of the audience was 99% female – I’m not sure he ever got to the bottom of it, if you’ll pardon the expression, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. It was a shame that it was one of those nights when, if an audience member was asked what they did for a living, or where they lived, that they went all shy and unresponsive. That’s a tough way to treat a comic.
Our first act was Tez Ilyas, whom we’ve not seen before but he was on my shortlist for Edinburgh shows this year and just missed out because we couldn’t quite fit him in. A really funny, engaging, self-deprecating comic, with brilliant timing and a lot of great material. When someone describes themselves as openly Asian, you can guess the tricky kind of line they’re going to follow. His allusions to The Apprentice and to the News were spot on, and he absolutely had us in the palm of his hand. Then he made a schoolboy error – describing us as inhabitants of Peterborough, not Northampton. Gasps, shocks, stuns and disapproving moans later, he tried to extricate himself by explaining he was from Lancashire and how was he to know – it’s not like we had a proper cricket club… Further gasps, shocks, stuns and disapproving moans. Stop digging! It’s only because he was so likeable that we let him live. The Sheriff wondered if it was a deliberate ploy to get the town wrong in order to get the funny extrication out of difficulty as a consequence. I’m not sure – if it is, it’s a dangerous game! Anyway, he’s a genuinely funny guy and I’d be very happy to see him again.
Second up, and also completely new to us, was Sarah Callaghan. She has a strong, confident delivery, bordering on the faux aggressive, and a lot of her material was on the rudiments of sex – which is always funny, of course. I’d describe her approach as well urban, which didn’t quite connect with any of our party – we’re just too old and staid I suppose. That’s not to say she wasn’t enjoyable, because she was! It just wasn’t an act that I felt I had much in common with, so I didn’t get that much out of it. She had her hands full (figuratively speaking) with some irritatingly noisy girls at the back who just chattered all the way through her act. Fortunately, they left before the final act could make mincemeat of them.
Our headline act, whom we have seen twicebefore – and who just seems to get better and better all the time – was Ian Cognito, which has to be one of the best stage names in the business. No one can tell a really poor taste joke and make it bristle with delight like he can, which is both challenging to the audience and also incredibly funny. This time around, his most wicked observations dealt with paedophiles. His act is basically a string of one-liners, but delivered with superb style and at whatever pace he feels comfortable – this could be very fast or, more likely, aggressively languid. Winner of last year’s Chrisparkle Award for best Screaming Blue Stand-up. He might easily take the crown this year too.
Another one in a couple of weeks’ time – looks like a great line-up, so come along!