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| REVIEWS: AUGUST 1998 - FEBRUARY 1999 | |||
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Welcome to Archive Reviews: August 1998 - February 1999 Mutt's Nuts, The Hand and Racquet, Whitcomb Street, W1THE upstairs room at this West End pub is a decent size, with a bar, low lighting and country beams everywhere. MC Mark Felgate hit the right note of friendliness, energy and pace; he warmed up the audience without hogging 'act' time. First-on David Caruana was affable and is definitely becoming more of a performer than a bloke telling stories. Eve Guthrie looked very new and young and lacked presentation skills. But she had some good material and a quiet confidence about her. Aussie Tony Bailey had some excellent and intelligent gags but needs more oomph. He has to find his comedy legs after taking a year to get to England. (If the plane had gone any slower, it'd have fallen out of the sky). Then we were treated to Phil Davey, loudly confident with some interesting thoughts on sleep. He's a top act and put a buzz into the room. The next two acts, Juliet Cowan and Belinda Merriman, both looked great, had presence and tried to perform would-be shocking material. But it was a bit coy: adolescent girls shrieking on the bus stuff. Finally, headliner Ian Stone came hotfoot from the Comedy Store, just round the corner. His humour was Jewish but not exclusively so. He was very bright and relaxed. Overall, a splendid night for this new club. STAR RATING (out of five): **** Georgina Gush / February 1999 Mickey Flanagan, Buccaneers, London W1 IT was a good night with the audience outnumbering the acts - something that hasn't happened in a long time. And Mickey Flanagan - who looks like such a nice boy - did a hysterical routine on the East End, world travellers and kinky sex. I really shouldn't approve but he's extraordinarily funny. It's hard to see how someone retains their charm while delving in gross areas, but he does. If he dropped the f-word, we could be talking TV. The other acts were also good. Paul Sinha put in a polished few minutes, which would be even better if he moved away from punning; Shappi Khorsandi was infectiously funny and smiley; and with a bit move focus on ordering his act David Keay would be brilliant. STAR RATING (out of five): **** Georgina Gush / February 1999 Mitch Benn, Buccaneer Comedy, London W1 MITCH BENN had the audience falling about with his tried and trusted song "Crap Shag" and an excellent new song about an audience's fear of the musical comic. But for someone who can assemble such killer lyrics, his patter between numbers and joke-telling is curiously defensive - as though he knows he is weak without accompaniment. His playing and songwriting is so strong, however, it's easy to glide over these moments. Benn's well-deserved encore - Perfect Day as sung on the BBC promo by 40 voices - was amazing. On its own it should silence any carping critics of musical comedy. STAR RATING (out of five): *** Georgina Gush / February 1999 The Red Rose Comedy Club, Finsbury Park, London N7 SATURDAY night at the Red Rose - one of London's most famous comedy venues, now back under the stewardship of its progenitor Ivor Dembina. Dembina is a curious character: a little bespectacled man who seems to carry the woes of the world on his shoulders. But he knows how to run a great club. In the few months since his return, the large room behind the Labour club in Finsbury Park has cackled with comedy. Now his audience is reaching its "critical mass" of 120ish, the Red Rose is becoming a top gig once again. As a compere, Dembina has the most extraordinary style. Most professional MCs exude confidence and look absolutely bullet proof. Dembo's approach is to carry his vulnerability and self-doubt on stage with him, allowing him to question the audience without posing a threat to them. The comedy then stems from his quick wit in turning their answers into jokes. He used a girl's boast that she'd just spent £200 on buying bras to great effect. ("50 quid a bra, 25 a tit!"). That led to a whole string of quips that warmed up the audience very nicely. First on, Andy Parsons was a crowd pleaser, although not to my taste. He shouts and swears too much and that detracted from his performance; his material (cereal packet instructions, grumpy old people etc.) was neither clever nor original; and his yobby persona didn't really ring true. Drew Barr was far worse. He boasted a smart suit but very weak material. And with the audience, he dipped alarmingly until only a handful of people were laughing at his jaded routines. You can't get away with feeble jokes about flying and getting drunk any longer. To be brutally honest, Barr wasn't really up to playing the Red Rose. True pro Martin Coyote turned the evening. He has a lovely manner and some very good routines. And headliner Simon Bligh was absolutely outstanding. I love his technique; leaving the microphone in the stand and acting out his flights of fancy around it. He picked on audience members but left them feeling good about themselves. And he was topical without being boring. There's no doubt Bligh is a real gem of a club comic - worth the £6 admission fee on his own. Overall it was a very good night's entertainment in an atmosphere that was unusually sexy for a comedy venue. The Red Rose is an important club and it and Ivor Dembina deserve all the public support they can get. STAR RATING (out of five): **** January 1999 Buccaneers Comedy, The Hope, London W1 I ARRIVED late and swelled the paying audience by 20 per cent. But I was in time for the very pleasant and funny Lucy Baylor who looked slimmer and bendier after birth than I have since the age of 14. Mandy Muden was nearly hoisted by her own petard when her lascivious patter induced an American to strip to his boxer shorts! Her wonky tricks are always appealing. Very confident David Kelly spread his little good material with great skill and excellent magician Danny Buckler used audience members without embarrassing or humiliating them. After his commended performance on Channel 4, he deserves a bigger audience. STAR RATING (out of five): **** Georgina Gush/January 1999 SUCK IT AND SEE, BAR LATINO, Islington, London N1 EVERYONE with a guitar amp, microphone stand and access to a bar seems to want to launch a comedy club these days. Stand-up isn't the new rock 'n' roll - it's the new karaoke! And the opening night of Suck It and See was a first-rate demonstration of how NOT to do it. First, the room - a garishly-painted nightclub - is totally unsuited to comedy. From the soap box that passed as a stage, the acts could only see half the room. More importantly, half the punters couldn't see the comics. On the night, some might have said that was a blessing in disguise. Compere Simon Clayton trotted out all the old sexist and racial stereotype routines in his warm-up. He's not really an alternative comic at all. You might as well have had Bernard Manning up there. The only difference being that Manning would have told the gags a lot better. The first act was James Holmes, who is a camp comic with good empathy with his audience but weak material. He came unstuck because of that at last year's Edinburgh Festival - and only just got away with it at this little venue. Most of his routines are about celebrity deaths - and so they quickly go out of date, leaving his act looking threadbare. Then came comedy newcomer Dougie Dunlop, a Scot with a good range of accents and some very old gags. After that - to my amazement - there was an interval. A couple of middling acts were promised for later, but I already had the measure of Suck It and See. It sucks! STAR RATING (out of five): * John Behrens/January 1999 BUCCANEER COMEDY, The Hope, London W1 SALLY HOLLOWAY gave a good start of the night's entertainment. Her chatty style shouldn't lead you to think that her set isn't packed with fine material - because it is. There no waffle and some good stuff in there. She can always josh an audience successfully and watching her explain - without being crude - to an idiotic American why Tony 'Donkey' Adams's name is misleading was wonderful. Then there was a wonderful newcomer, John Moore. He had enormous presence and affability, which, when he finds some good material, could be devastating. Anton, the following act, doesn't seem quite right in the head. Why does he think saying 'Doggie style' 10 times over is going to bring the house down? It was very tiresome for the rest of us. Keith Coughtree suffered from being too quiet and whimsical, but had some good ideas percolating through. And fabulously-glam Luis Alberto headlined with some impressions (not too many, thank God) and some surprisingly sharp sociopolitical stuff, which was a breath of fresh air. STAR RATING (out of five): *** Georgina Gush/January 1999 DOWNSTAIRS AT THE KING'S HEAD, CROUCH END, LONDON N8 Despite a good warm-up, Dave Thompson and Dave Holland each had a raw deal as the audience refused to shut up. But, as always, music soothed the savage beast with Mallory and Mr Flute on fantastic form with their rude songs and delicately sinister presentation. The evening was crowned with an appearance by Paul Thorne, blessed with a heckler at the front whom he tagged "My Little Pony". Thorne topped the night with his mad chicken routine, which is as good a use of five minutes and one joke as you'll ever see. STAR RATING (out of five): *** Georgina Gush/January 1999 1998 Reviews MADDEST TURNS OF 1998 SHOW, JOE'S COMEDY MADHOUSE, Stoke Newington, London N16 THIS was undoubtedly the craziest and funniest gig I have ever attended. Joe Wilson handpicked some of the biggest loons on the London comedy circuit and got rising star Rob Rouse to compere - to amazing effect. I have hardly ever seen a small crowd whipped up into such a comedy frenzy. Rouse's banter with them was nothing short of inspired lunacy and his material (including send-ups of disgraced Gary Glitter and Geoff Boycott) had them splitting their sides. And the maddest turns of the year were extraordinary. Opener Steve Day was distinctly wacky and wasn't put off by heckles. Because he's deaf. Tony Hindle gave us a guide to Tory party politics, using his naked arse as an illustration and Chris Hawkins discussed wanking in the newsagent's. Molly Moron made us perform a ludicrous song in a northern accent, and Joe Wilson was at his most outrageous, screeching come-backs at hecklers. Crazy-eyed Max Leonard did his dreadful puns and was suitably embarrassed when Rouse called him back to microphone to reveal his day job: art editor of Mayfair magazine. And the legendary Jimbo spent his act silently battling with the microphone stand. His job was made more difficult by an obese and drunken couple who claimed to have bought the pub and insisted on screaming "You're fired" at the acts. When they really got out of hand (insulting other members of the audience), Joe Wilson sprayed them with the fire extinguisher and threw out them out of the door - to loud cheers. Even at the Madhouse, there's never been a night quite like it. STAR RATING (out of five): ***** Peter Guest/December 1998 Brixton Comedy Club, The Hobgoblin, London 'FANTASTIC! Alan Davies for £5!' That's what south London's collective comedy consciousness thought and the sometimes-drafty Hobgoblin was as packed as Marks & Sparks on Christmas Eve. Charming Mark Kelly was guest MC, hitting the right note with the audience by having them sing a chorus of "He's up his own arse" at football-crowd volume. Splendid Jojo Smith brought a Chaucerian crudity to the event. How she gets away with her wince-inducing fanny gags I do not know, but she was very funny and kept the pissed-up boys in the front row firmly in their place. Earl Okin was as smooth as a lounge lizard and had a balming effect on the drunks with his melodic, louche and scathing songs. The main attraction of the night however was Alan Davies. His television appearances in the BBC drama Jonathan Creek and his solo show have raised his profile enormously, and he clearly has a lot of charm. The shaggy hair and come-to-bed eyes and his mild manner are all endearing, and his voice is a perfect imitation of Mick Jagger's nasal whine. Davies can talk rot about the backdrop, the room and the audience and still have us tittering away. And the real material he used was excellent. STAR RATING (out of five): **** Georgina Gush/December 1998 Murphy's Unplugged Comedy Festival, Dublin YOU might ask how this event could fail; with Dublin being one of the most popular weekend destinations and having a strong reputation for craic, storytelling and wit. Well, it did fail because a great idea was badly executed. There were eight venues, ranging from the Laughter Lounge (very good theatre-style place with a receptive audience) to The Auld Dubliner, which like The Banker and McDaid's, was a great pub but absolutely useless for comedy. I also wondered why Howard Marks was billed for one of the good venues on the Saturday night. He's not a comic - just an ex-drug dealer with PR. Talented comic Ross Noble's telling comment on the festival was: "You can't really call them gigs. I don't know what you'd call it. It's a shambles." He was spot on. Many of the shows ran at the same time or overlapped, so you couldn't scoot around to see the lot. The Auld Banker was cursed with a tiny raised stage adjacent to a small room where a boozy Friday night crowd were blaring at each other as if there was nothing going on. The area in front of the stage was packed with people being served at the bar. The comics, who looked like priests at the altar rail, were inaudible above the pub racket. At McDaid's on the Saturday night, the gig suffered less from the room than the lighting. The powerful spotlights of the night before had been usurped by a couple of strings of domestic fairy lights (after a problem with the fuse box!) The general feeling among punters was that the festival suffered from a complete lack of good organisation and planning. There was big money to pay Tommy Tiernan and others. But a bit of investment in space would have reaped greater rewards. STAR RATING (out of five): * Georgina Gush/November 1998 Jimeoin, Cochrane Theatre, London WC1 JIMEOIN - sounds like "Jim Owen" - tickled and teased his audience to euphoria. A native of Northern Ireland, he's obviously found his hard-won position as a millionaire superstar in Australia very congenial, so it's no wonder he can spread warmth and delight. He sound gently Irish and his carefully-constructed laidback manner testifies to his Aussie influence. Jimeoin's delight at the sound of words is positively Beckettian and his influence on Eddie Izzard is clear - directed rambling; going off at tangents; slightly awkward acting out of imagined scenes. Gag-free comedy - except for one brilliant Diana joke - kept the audience very happy. What a lovely bloke! STAR RATING (out of five): ***** Georgina Gush/November 1998 You Must Be Joking!, The Sindrome, London NW10. THE large but shabbily attractive room was only a quarter full, perhaps because of the floor which was stickier than syrup. And the evening was marred by a particularly obnoxious heckler who yapped her way through every act and introduction. She was like an appallingly-behaved dog. But her boyfriend seemed to revel in her dimwitted behaviour and someone from the club kept saying: "She's not a plant." Wonderful Glaswegian comic Stu Who was amusing and joshing and had some great stories, Trevor Crook did a sterling job, and oh-so-slick Sean Meo delivered a laugh every 10 seconds. It would be nice to see this venue succeed. STAR RATING (out of five): *** Georgina Gush/November 1998 Hobgoblin Comedy, Brixton, London THIS feisty little club goes from strength to strength. Compere Ivor Dembina showed remarkable form with new material and good banter. Ronnie Golden performed an end-of-the-pier sort of set, but was not overgenerous with his musical contributions - a shame because it's what he does best. Simon Evans, caddish in shot velvet, really raised the roof with his measured sarcasm and a lot of new material. And Simon Bligh was excellent and brimming with energy for a sleep-deprived new dad. STAR RATING (out of five): **** Georgina Gush/November 1998 The Improv, Los Angeles THIS is where Robin Williams and Steve Martin cut their comedy teeth. But on tonight's showing all I can do is thank God for British comics because the future would be very grim indeed if left in the hands of the churls and bigots on display at this illustrious venue. Mind you, Bless with Ted, whose gimmick is his wonderful mane of reddish-golden curls, was an excellent compere and the evening started promisingly with his effevescent silliness building up the audience to a pitch of merry expectation. Unfortunately he was the only plum in the pudding. Willy Barsena sailed through some Italian-American stereotyping; Chris Spencer was pleasant but unmemorable; and Steve Marmel hated and wished death on everyone, Jews and gangsta rappers included. Alan Harvey was like John Goodman without the twinkle, and Charlie Fleischer, supposed the top act of the night, was a vile, lascivious Quasimodo. Fleischer had hardly any material, structuring his act around abuse to those in the front row - and opening a hapless bride-to-be's wedding shower on stage!. Most the acts mocked the audience in vicious and jeering terms. And they asked exactly the same questions of the same people, treating the men with derision and leering at their girlfriends. Tucked away safely at the back of the room, I achieved a comedy first for me and found myself falling asleep. STAR RATING (out of five): * Georgina Gush/October 1998 MARY BOURKE, BUCCANEERS, THE HOPE, W1 TOO often female comics hide behind a persona - whether girlie or ghastly - but Mary has the confidence to dispense with that nonsense. She can hold her own in a 10 to 15 minute spot. Her affable presence and the fact that you're not dealing with a half-baked character idea makes you almost forget that some of the material is a bit average: being dumped; women who won't go down; men as financial tickets; and teachers' jokes. But funny/average is better than many newish comedians achieve. STAR RATING (out of five): **and a half. Georgina Gush/October 1998 THE HOBGOBLIN, BRIXTON AFTER an extended break, it was good to see this venue up and running again. Compere Ivor Dembina was affable without being ingratiating and did a fine job of making it a friendly night. First out of the traps was comic magacian Otiz Canelloni. I like magic and would have been grateful for a few more tricks. But there was no spark or surprise to his act. I haven't seen him for 12 years and was surprised he hasn't become more polished or acquired better comic chat over that long period. Next came Brendon Burns - what a ranting boy he is! But attitude is no substitute for good material. Laughs were slow in coming and I'm not ashamed to contradict his supposition that it was the audience's fault. Finally, there was a great surprise, Hoopal! - a double act of men in suits; one man pudding-faced, the other almost as narrow as an axe head. They treated us to some excellent, silly clowning - messing around with wet towels and tennis balls. The audience roared with laughter and the night ended on a high note. Let's see more of them! OVERALL STAR RATING (out of five): *** Georgina Gush/October 1998 DAVID KEAY, BUCCANEERS COMEDY, LONDON W1 DAVID KEAY is a young Scottish comedian who's been doing well on the London circuit for the last 16 months - but on this occasion he was shit. He incurred maximum black marks by embarrassing two women in the audience - dissecting them without kindness or wit but with a bully's confidence. If he'd made the same comments in conversation in a pub, someone would probably have punched his lights out. Having ripped open his shirt, played with his nipples, and treated us to a verse of 'Flower of Scotland', he offered to perform any song we liked. Can't you get this sort of thing on the Kilburn High Road (London's Irish quarter) any night of the week? But they don't call it 'comedy', just 'sad'. Keay didn't do a jot of proper material and his artless apology afterwards - 'I don't know what came over me - it's been a hell of a week' - didn't restore him to grace with the bored and appalled audience. On this night, the Cream of Scotland was definitely sour - a shameful abuse of real talent. STAR RATING (out of five): ZERO Georgina Gush/September 1998 AL MURRAY, PUB LANDLORD - Keeper of the Pint Cosmic, The Pleasance, Edinburgh Fringe Comedy Festival THIS was a vintage Pub Landlord performance by a brilliant character comedian at the peak of his powers. The hour flew by as Murray showed just how far he's managed to take his creation. No shortage of material here; he has acres of it. And his interaction with the audience was so spontaneous and funny even Murray was laughing at it. I say fuck the Perrier panel! I dread to think what the Pub Landlord would say about those purveyors of over-priced fizzy water. We're awarding the truly magnificent Al Murray the Stand-up Comedy London Award for Best Act of the 1998 Edinburgh Comedy Festival Well done, landlord! STAR RATING (out of five): ****** (SIX) August 1998 Visit our sister site: Oliver's Poetry home Get your poems published for free Friends' Poetry home Oliver's Poetry Garret Interactive Blog Oliver's Poetry Garret No Frills Blog A-Z of Poetry Oliver's Poetry UK |
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