The New Wave @ The Dancehouse, 22 Nov
A night promising to showcase the ‘new wave of comedy’ is a lofty claim, but one that is met with a diverse cast, that lamentably only has four of its five billed comedians as Claudia O’Doherty is absent. The four remaining comics more than made up for her loss with a show championing comedy with a brain and a love of the abstract.
Introducing the four standups is Mark Watson, seen as a paternal figure despite being only 33, who with a great mix of warmth and nervous ticks manages to get a diverse crowd excited for comedians they may never have seen, or even heard of, before. Up first is the impossibly likable Mae Martin, who disarms the crowd with a gentle charm and even when she attempts more risqué material is smiled upon despite having a look of Justin Bieber (her words). Keeping a Mancunian audience in her pocket even after decrying the city’s favourite son, Dr Brian Cox, is no mean feat but Martin is so damn lovable she even makes a joke about veggies wearing strap-ons seem cute. Finishing with a strong song about the influences of a teacher and Buffy the Vampire Slayer on her own sexuality is again winning, with a creepiness only a true fangirl can achieve. Martin probably turned out to be the most well liked of the performers on the bill, but then that’s probably the case for any room she walks into.
Ivo Graham is up next and what starts as a naval gazing story about his virginity and boarding school-years is interrupted by a man getting up and going for a drink one minute into the set. At first it seems like this has thrown the young standup, but he stands his ground and effectively emasculates a man twice his size. Besting brawn with brain wins over a crowd easier than any anecdote about a randy housemaster might have. He’s soon back in his stride and ends with a great self-deprecating gag stolen from his brother. Once he gets past the fact that he looks like a prepubescent his work will be all the better.
The second half of the show is perhaps a little lackluster in terms of audience enjoyment and certainly in participation as the two final acts are slightly more scripted and polished. Ellie White is a phenomenal character comedian but leaves us wanting more than simply her Australian motivational speaker and Russian émigré hoping to be crowned Miss Haringey. A sketch show clearly beckons for such a talented actress but tonight she jars with the rest of the acts, both in presentation and in time on stage.
Liam Williams, a deadpan miserablist with a routine of rapid fire poetic prose that’s given more credence by his Yorkshire drawl, closes and does so with his usual disdain for modern life and its various trappings. The audience are not in fits of laughter but appreciative of a comedian who clearly enjoys himself even if his set is about just the opposite.
The new wave may not have swept up the whole of the audience, but those that wanted a night of alternative comedy on a big stage got just that. Four quite disparate acts showing the future is bright for comedy.