Review: Stewart Lee - Basic Lee

Stewart Lee: Basic Lee
Oxford Playhouse | Monday, 30 January 2023

It's a cold, damp Monday night in Oxford, but the full-house crowd at the Playhouse theatre is in chipper spirits as the lights dim. Stewart Lee takes to the stage, bleached-out by the lights in scruffy black jeans, walking boots, an oversized black Teddy Boy jacket and bottle green polo shirt. The touring-version of his Basic Lee Edinburgh show from 2022, this is the opening night of a now-traditional week long residency in the city, with all performances sold out in advance.

Greetings out of the way, one of the first things Lee tells the audience is that this is a back-to-basics show - hence the title - lacking the overarching structure of his previous tours. The last part of this is of course untrue, but at this point the comedian has lain down the gauntlet for the audience to piece together the structure for themselves, albeit giving them a helping hand in the process. What Stewart means is that there's no specific and visible prop this time, be it an outsized Caffé Nero loyalty card or set manufactured from rolls of carpet or standup comedy DVD cases. Instead, the form here is the structure, and the structure is the form, with Lee's trademark rambling style flipping down callback-markers as it staggers through what it means to be a touring comic in 2023.

MECHANICS

Lee does make overt references to earlier jokes in previous shows, usually commenting on the mechanics or expanding and adding to the joke as a self-aware reference, for audiences members who recall it from last time (and at a Stewart Lee gig, this means most of them). The attending crowd comes in for a gentle, non-directional ribbing of course as is standard, but without the theatrical vitriol we've seen previously. Unless, that is, you happen to be a patron looking at their phone during the performance, in which case it becomes rather more pointed*¹.

Our host also makes prolonged and repeated references to in-theatre happenings (late arrivals, lighthearted heckles etc), and while Lee isn't necessarily one for extended improvisation, it will be interesting to see how this evolves over its 15-month run. The show in its present form is open to adaptation as the months pass (even with the ever-present first half disclaimer that there's no point in writing semi-topical material on a Monday which will be out of date by Friday). Segments on Fleabag and Barry Cryer will doubtless remain, by virtue of their timeless reliability to showcase Stewart's own finer talents.

BERNIE WINTERS

But there's something about Lee, either in perceived or studied style, that craves the larger structure. Notwithstanding that his 'event' show format has been creeping upward for over a decade, it's also what the audience (okay, me) expect. And if tonight's lesson is that the shows can't all be hyper-focused comedic surgery then it's a one worth taking on board. But the end result is that Basic Lee isn't quite as satisfying as previous outings, even if it's no less entertaining*².

On the whole this is a lot more relaxed than Lee's theme-based shows, and as such is a potentially good place to get new, casual, fans on board. Personally, I think I prefer the focused rage (faux or otherwise) of other recent pieces, but there is still an absolute joy in watching Stewart Lee be on top of his material without having to conjure tangible demons for the audience's amusement...

Basic Lee is at Oxford Playhouse until Saturday 4th Feb, then tours the UK.
Tickets at StewartLee.co.uk

*¹ There were several of these moments in both halves of the show. Lee admits on-stage that he hates making direct eye contact during performances, essentially making it difficult to detect if he's actually addressing someone or if this is a routine designed to make people in the audience look round among themselves for the offending person. Nonetheless, I did see a phone-glow in my peripheral vision for one of his curt interjections, so it isn't all 'a bit'. ^{[ BACK ]}

*² Spoilers, highlight-to-read: For what it's worth, I'd have happily had the first half's JK Rowling routine and the jazz-description in the second to be longer, if only because the patrons on either side of me weren't nearly uncomfortable or worn-down enough with the repetition... [/End] ^{[ BACK ]}

DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

Gig Report: Robin Ince - Happiness Through Science

CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.



Robin Ince: Happiness Through Science
Didcot Cornerstone / Fri 29 Jun 2012

Despite his extensive work with the sort of comedians I like™, and indeed the actual comedians I like™, I've so far managed not to see Robin Ince live. This, despite everyone in my circle of friends telling me that I really should, and me listening to his various shows and podcasts all the while. So when he's due to play a venue ten minutes walk away from my house, I really have no excuse.

Happiness Through Science, is a two-hour (plus) excited, rambling, enthusiastic and occasionally-angry tour of science and many of its adjoining counterparts, including art, religion, consciousness, mortality. Wow, I've made that sound a lot heavier than it is. The show is very positive, like the title suggests. Robin Ince has a passion for knowledge that can't be contained, and the routines almost burst out of him as he paces, crouches and leaps his way through a set that jumps from topic to topic, with many 'but we'll talk about that later' moments, only a few of which are repaid. In fact, this is what I enjoyed most about the show; there's a feeling that there's not enough time to cover everything he wants to talk about. In fact, there's a feeling that he's barely got started (how do you cram the joy of all scientific achievement so far into two hours?). On more than one occasion, Robin apologised to the audience for keeping them so long and over-running the show, and on every occasion the audience quietly smiled back as if to say 'No, carry on. This is what we're here for. Talk more.' He talks about knowledge and learning in a way that isn't patronising (or maybe I'm too thick to realise I was being patronised*¹), because he's not teaching, he's just talking about how great finding stuff out is. The show's a lot more standup than I was expecting given the subject matter, but I can understand why he'd been listed at the venue as "comedy talk" rather than "standup".

I could have sat there all night listening to Robin talk, and I suspect I'm not alone in that, but obviously he had a train to catch and this ain't a Ken Dodd show. Speaking of trains, I've noticed that every stand-up who plays Didcot will make a reference to getting off the train for a change*², and Robin Ince was no exception. I'm not having a pop at performers for mentioning it, by the way, but it seems that while the audience laugh politely, there's an air of 'Yeah, they all say that'. Although tonight's show also featured the addition of walking the wrong direction out of the station and getting lost as a result, which got a greater (and more understanding) laugh.

In other hands, the show would seem disorganised and/or unfinished, but that's Ince's modus operandi, and I was just happy to hear him performing at great length. As much as he's a talker, the various shows of his I listen to all feature other presenters/guests, and he never talks over people. As a result, I always want to hear more from him, and as a result I didn't really have any reference material I could play Mrs Blackout before the show without subjecting her to seven or eight hours of Infinite Monkey Cage or Utter Shambles. I enjoyed seeing a show where it was about Robin, for a change. Even if he'd insist that it wasn't about him.

Oh, and when he did his Stewart Lee impersonation, and pointed out in character that only three people in the audience were getting this bit, I was one of those three. This made me feel superior to all the scientists in the audience. Ha! I am better than you, you results-obsessed idiots!

Charming, likeable, and kinda nutty. Go and see Robin Ince. You really have no excuse.

Robin Ince has several different shows ongoing over the coming months, including an Edinburgh run. You can see a full listing and buy tickets through RobinInce.com. And you really should.

Wow. That was an objective review of the night, wasn't it? Not at all gushing and fanboyish. I don't care. Robin Ince's show has more content and passion than most mainstream performers manage over their careers. Go and see him, you fools.

*¹ Just kidding. I think.
*² Didcot Parkway is a large 'interchange' station between Reading and Oxford, and most trains travelling up the West side of England to/from London will stop there, seemingly regardless of their destination. Chances are you'll spend time waiting for a connection there at some point, but it's rare that you'll actually want to get off the train. We've only had the arts centre for five years or so, so a lot of performers are now finding out that Didcot consists of more than just a train station. Not a lot more, mind you.

DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.

• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

Gig Report: Al Murray - The Only Way is Epic

CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.



Al Murray: The Only Way Is Epic (Work In Progress)
Didcot Cornerstone / Mon 25 Jun 2012

Under the normal run of things, I wouldn't go to see Al Murray live. It's not that I dislike him at all, but he doesn't really push my comedy-buttons. I get it, of course, but that doesn't necessarily make it any funnier to me. I'm aware that for many of his shows, he's playing to what is essentially a 'non-comedy' crowd. When it was announced that he was playing my local however (a 200-300 capacity room), with a w-i-p show, I was interested. To see a regular act in an irregular setting suddenly made the whole thing very attractive, and I felt I couldn't ignore this happening so close to where I live*¹. Now this might sound like a harsh, snobby opening (and let's face it, it is), but it influenced the way I watched the show.

And so, the eponymous Pub Landlord came to my town with a warm-up/work-in-progress for his upcoming Edinburgh Festival run and subsequent tour. There is no stage-curtain at this theatre, and as the audience are seated the minimal stage dressing is visible, a chair with two Union flags sticking out from the back, and a pint of lager placed on the seat. The lights dim, Al introduces himself and storms onto stage with his trademark blazer, and another pint of lager. The show begins…



Having seen clips on TV, and the odd episode of his chat-show, I was familiar with the general banter of his stage-show, but wasn't sure what to expect in overall direction. In terms of tonight's show, that pretty much was the direction. Now don't get me wrong, it was very, very funny, but it did seem to be a smokescreen for a lack of content. Most of the first half of the show was spent chit-chatting with the first two rows of the audience, which is great (especially for them), but the comedy-cynic in me couldn't help but wonder how much of an autopilot this was. I think Al's skill lies not so much in thinking of a witty reposte when an audience member says they're a builder, a teacher, an estate agent etc, but more in remembering which one-liners get the best reaction from his crowd in response. If you think of close-quarters stand-up as Murray's day-job, it shouldn't take too long to build up a mental encyclopaedia of banter with which to pad a little..

He didn't take it too far with anyone of course, another skill evident in his act, and he deftly skipped over audience members who weren't up for it. It was all beautifully done, but I got this impression of stalling. And yes, I'm aware that it was a work-in-progress, so it's not going to be mega-slick, but I counted two actual routines/gags in the first half, and around four or five in the second. It all works as a general act, but doesn't really feel coherent. If anything, the more interaction there was with the audience, the less individual the show felt. I liked the gags, but I wanted more. Like, a show's worth?

There's been much said about Murray's dual-layered performance, but I don't know if he's toning that down somehow, because I wasn't really picking much of it up. It's character comedy, certainly, but the abrasive nationalism that springs to mind when you think of Murray's Pub Landlord was fairly muted in Didcot. Present, but keeping its distance. Maybe it's because the audience was arts centre, rather than comedy club, I don't know.

I sound like a right grump about the whole thing, but I assure you I did enjoy the night. I just feel like I don't really need to do it again. From what I've heard fans say (comedy-geeks and civilians), I think I was expecting some sort of unique magic that doesn't come across on TV or DVD; some cheeky, subversive spark that'd make me get it. As it turns out, I got pretty much what I should have expected - A very funny, crowd-pleasing comedian, who knows his audience but doesn't have to patronise them.

Al Murray is playing warm-up gigs around the UK througout July and August, and then the Edinburgh Festival from August 13th 25th. He'll be performing a full tour of the UK this autumn. You can buy tickets from his website.

Despite what appears to be a lukewarm review, I do recommend you see Al Murray live, if you get the chance.

*¹ Unlike when Mr McIntyre played the same room a couple of years ago. He could be doing a gig in my front garden and I wouldn't go. Now there's snobbery for you.

DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.

• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

190: Gig Report: Phill Jupitus

CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.

Phill Jupitus
Cornerstone Arts Centre, Didcot
26 July 2011

A low-key warm-up gig. It was advertised ahead of time, but tickets only went on sale ten days before the show. The cynic in me suspects this was to create more demand, but the 350 capacity venue sold out, so it worked either way.

Like Sunday, this was a warm-up show for the imminent Edinburgh Festival, and knowing how performers need to time their acts precisely, I wasn't expecting a long gig. Phill's standup set is an hour, but he also gave us half an hour of poetry at the start as his own support act.

I'd be lying if I said I enjoyed poetry generally, and some of Jupitus' poems are better than others. But the dry humour of many of them works well, and I did geek out over 'I've eaten things you wouldn't believe'. Keeping in mind that first half was unadvertised and unexpected, I enjoyed it. The concept seemed to throw a lot of the audience off for 10 minutes or so, but once everyone had acclimatised it rolled along nicely. So after 30 minutes of verse and chit-chat, there was time for an interval, a beer, and a visit to the little boys' room.



Phill's second half (or more properly, a second two thirds) was a lot more animated, even though his style strays towards deadpan. There were one or two awkward silences where I suspect bigger laughs were expected, and a few more where he was transitioning between routines. But that said, there were a lot of full-on laughs consistently through the set. I was also pleasantly surprised to find a very sturdy impersonation of Eddie Izzard tucked away in there, all the better for not being exaggerated or over-done.

Other high points included the tweets of a Welsh pornstar, the crisis of middle-age, and a massive tirade against Coldplay. I found the last segment particularly amusing because I could almost hear around half of a fairly mainstream audience thinking '...but I like Coldplay. Now I don't know what to think.', while the other half guffawed heartily*¹.

Which brings me to the only disconcerting part of the show; for the whole hour, Phill Jupitus seems to veer wildy between fairly pedestrian observational material, and much sharper routines which you wouldn't see on BBC1 on a Saturday evening. I'm fine with both, but it's an odd mix for a show. The latter got bigger laughs, but from less of the crowd. It wasn't offensive as such, but it was closer to the kind of comedy I usually consume (Richard Herring, Michael Legge). For example, the teenage boy in the row in front of us was mortified when Phill pointed out that everyone in the auditorium knows exactly what he's doing in his room :p

At his best when he's being open and self-deprecating, Phill Jupitus has a solid show here. I could probably have lived without the opening poetry segment*², but it worked well in context. I'd like to see him again in a similar sized venue next time he's doing the rounds.

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*¹ Very heartily. I've got nothing against Coldplay. I don't particularly like them, and sure they're a bit bland, but there's no crime in that. Most people are a bit bland. The fact that Coldplay are successful reflects more on the people buying their records than on the band. Nevertheless, Phill's Coldplay routine is a good one.
*² It was still infinitely better than a support-act who makes you want to sneak out to the bar without being seen. But you can't sneak out when you're sitting in the front row. That's happened before. At this venue, no less.

DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.

• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

189: Gig Report: Michael Legge & Rich Fulcher

CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.

Michael Legge & Rich Fulcher
The Phoenix, Cavendish Sq, W1G 0PP.
July 24th, 2011.

So, as it goes, it's been a year since I was last at The Phoenix for the Precious Little party. The time has flown by, and Michael Legge has drawn me back to the venue once again. I meant to return earlier, but it wasn't to be. Hey, ho.

---

'Curse Sir Walter Raleigh'
Michael Legge's show centres around good manners, their importance, and people's frequent lack of them in this modern society. If that sounds a bit serious, it's not. Michael recounts the time his father lied to him as a child over a plastic drainpipe, the time he was rescued by Hunter out of Gladiators, and the time he demanded the shoe of a youth on a train.
If you're familiar with Michael's blog or podcast, you'll know that he spends a disproportionate amount of time arguing with people on trains. You'll also know that they bloody deserve it, and he has far more patience than the rest of us when it comes to the public.
The show is around an hour long (with a target time of 55 minutes), and absolutely zips by. I've seen Michael performing some of the stories live before, and heard/read others, but because the show's anecdotal rather than a series of gags, the entertainment comes in the delivery as much as the content. In short, it doesn't matter if you've heard the tale, it's still great.
"Give me your shoe!" never gets old.


'Tiny Acts of Rebellion'
Rich Fulcher's set acts in many ways as a counterpoint to '...Raleigh', given that it's about finding small ways to throw a spanner in the works. It's not about being rude, just about stopping people in their tracks, often out of absolute confusion.
I'd seen Rich live as part of The Mighty Boosh, but wasn't familiar with his solo work. For a large part of the show, he reads from a sheaf of paper in a faux-stilted delivery, which I suspect might only be a half affectation. It works very well though. His persona of naive, nervous bluster, goes nicely with the mild, petty anarchy of the subject.

Rich selects people from the audience to join him on-stage at several points, all of it good natured. First up was me*¹, and Rich and I ate gazpacho soup then chocolate cake. With our hands. No, we didn't wipe our hands in between courses. Apparently Mr Fulcher was surprised that I joined him in dessert, as not many of his guests do. Odd, that.


Photo courtesy of Neal 55 who, thanks to an impromptu sing-song which he was too good-mannered to stop, now has two birthdays. His actual one, and his official one on July 24th.

Rich Fulcher performed the final half of his hour-long set with chocolate cake smeared around his mouth.
My hands smelled of soup for the next 18 hours.

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All in all: An excellent day. It was hugely convenient for me that the show started at 3pm, as it makes the journey to/from London way more viable. And who can argue with two hours of quality standup for £5? No-one, that's who.

Further shout-outs go to Andy McH, Gordy, Wendy, Simon, MushyBees Simon, and Laura, who I can recommend following if you're on that Twitter thing.
If not, get the hell on that Twitter thing. It's like Facebook, only neater and with less bullshit.

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Michael Legge is on Twitter here, and you can buy tickets for his CSWR show at Edinburgh here.

Rich Fulcher is also on Twitter, and you can buy tickets for TAoR here.


*¹ I should point out that I didn't volunteer for this, I was selected. But when Rich Fulcher asks you to join him for dinner, you say yes.

DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.

• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

185: Gig Report: Ross Noble & Friends

CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.

Ross Noble & Friends
Reading, South Street.
July 6th, 2011.

I wasn't going to post about this, but given that this month seems to have become Jovial July, I may as well (also, because it was an excellent night).



Ross Noble is one of the three live acts that I'll buy tickets for the day they go on sale, without a second thought (the other two being Bowling for Soup and Electric Six). And yet, when I read the bumph about Ross doing a series of warm-up shows for Laughs in the Park, featuring un-named guests, I have to say I did hesitate.

The prospect of seeing one of my favourite comedians doing compere work wasn't a problem (although obviously that means shorter, separate sets), it was more that I generally avoid comedy-club environments. Although I 'like comedy', I'm aware that there's a lot of stuff out there that I'm not a fan of. As I found out last year, there are few things more tedious than sitting in the front row of a venue, wanting to see the comedian whose name is on the ticket, and watching time slow down as the support act fails completely to engage with you (or vice versa, to be fair), and trying to keep that polite 'no, go on. I am interested' look on your face. Worse still, you could end up with some old-school arsehole whose act comprises of ripping the piss out of the audience. I've never had that happen to me, but I can't imagine I'd take it in good humour.

Anyway, in the end I bought tickets from Reading South Street over the phone (due to their non-functioning online store), and thanks to the general ineffectiveness of First Great Western, the choice of sitting in the front row was taken out of our hands. We still had a great view, about five rows from the front, and South Street is a small venue anyway, so it promised to be 'an intimate show' as billed...

---

As is normal in the comedy world, Ross introduced himself from off-stage, putting on a booming voice. As is not normal, Reading South Street has no back stage area behind the stage, so Ross had to walk through the auditorium and past the audience whilst doing it. Distracted by a malfunctioning microphone, the first fifteen minutes of the show took place in the dark as everyone's eyes gradually adjusted to the gloom and Ross became more hesitant about putting the lights back on.

All I can say about Ross' set is that he was brilliant as usual (which I'm aware is completely subjective). There were aspects of material that he was trying out for LitP (pissing on a squirrel), plus plenty of material which was inpired on the night (schoolgirl's jodphurs). I think my favourite was the concept of U2's Bono, on a rooftop, firing his AIDS-gun at Nelson Mandela (in a benevolent way). Also amusing was a loudmouth in the audience who didn't know the difference between Jon Bon Jovi and Joey Tempest, and spent five minutes drunkenly arguing that Mr Bon Jovi wasn't American. These five minutes were spent with the rest of the audience laughing at what a tit he was, as Noble confused him further. In the hands of a lesser comedian that might have soured the night, but it's a testament to Ross Noble's good nature that he can get the guy to shut up without pissing anyone off.





So after about 35-40 minutes, Ross introduced Joe Lycett to the stage. It was the first time I'd seen him (okay, the first time I'd heard of him too), and I enjoyed his set very much. He specialises in a sort of light whimsy, and being bitchy without being vindicive. That's not as camp as it sounds, by the way. There were many guffaw moments in Joe's set, including his previous life working (as 'staff') in a theatre.
He did about 20 minutes, and seemed to get quite nervous about half way through for some reason. From my point of view, his material was strong and his delivery was connecting with the audience, so I'm not sure why the nerves crept in, unless it's part of the show? He really did seem to have a 'oh my god, they all hate me' fluster, and from where I was sitting, that wasn't the case at all. I'd have quite happily watched more from Joe, but with his set over he gave the stage back to Ross for another 25 minutes.





Our headline act for the evening was Sarah Kendall, and thanks Ross' intervention when an audience member thought-out-loud that she may have seen her on the TV before, a running gag in Sarah's set was Arable Farming. For an idea that had originated on the night, it worked well, and if anything I found the rest of her set to be weaker, somehow. Sarah's style and delivery make up for it a lot, but it seemed like 20 minutes of constant amusement rather than setups and payoffs. It maybe didn't help that some of the jokes she had in her set, I'd already seen her perform on Russell Howard's BBC show, well over a year ago. I don't expect brand new material from every comedian at every performance, but I've been spoiled by Ross Noble in that regard. I did enjoy sarah's set, but I get the impression she can be much better (that's not meant to be damning with faint praise, honest).

And so, Mr Noble came back to the stage to wrap up the evening's procedings with another 10-15 minutes of banter. All in all, we got around an hour and a quarter of Ross Noble that evening, plus sets from two comedians that I'd like to see again. Well worth the £15, and the trip-out.

Unfortunately, the combination of working the next day, catching the late train, and a growing distrust of First Great Western meant that I didn't have time to hang around and hassle Ross for a photo. A lucky escape for him, that time.

All in all: A great night.
I still don't fancy doing the comedy clubs, though.

DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.

• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

151: We Are All Made Of Stars

CAUTION: Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.


Because those constellations can look like anything when you play connect the dots...



^^ Click for bigger (755*2190px, 155kb).



DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.

• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organizations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.