Jordan Brookes @ Monkey Barrel

This Is Just What Happens features many of the distinctive markings of Jordan Brookes’ previous work – talking to characters that may or may not in fact be there, unusual physical delivery, and mild audience antagonism (which will increase if you look as though you are in the process of reviewing the show). It’s important that you don’t let this threat put you off sitting close to the stage though – an essential part of going to see Jordan Brookes is that you can, in fact, see him (even the hands). 

Not satisfied with just being self-deprecating and physically goofy for an hour, Brookes weaves a strand of mystery into the set, dropping hints at a conversation going on behind the scenes which we're not quite party to. He heckles himself throughout, and for much of the hour it seems as though this might just be another layer to the show's cross-section of an anxious breakdown. In the end, we're treated to a conclusion that is surprisingly profound and disgusting in equal measure. 

Brookes has laid his insecurities bare on stage before, and This Is Just What Happens certainly retreads and builds upon the material from last year's Bleed, but this feels more vulnerable. All hour long he obsesses about being called a slimeball in 2019, circling around and around and in the process attacking his behaviour in relationships, protracted virginity and, of course, his physicality (“if I said to you I thought I was ugly you wouldn’t be like – WHAT?”). It’s both scary and endearing, neither sentiment helped by the audience’s absolute inability to tell if Brookes is being completely sincere (at several points he outright asks us if we believe what he’s saying). But these features are what have always made him a compelling performer, and are what makes This Is Just What Happens an ever-exciting show.

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Jordan Brookes: This Is Just What Happens, Monkey Barrel (Monkey Barrel 3), until 28 Aug (Not 15, 22), 9.55pm, £10