Brendon Burns

It seems wonderfully apt that Burns’ latest show discusses stereotypes: he is every inch the archetypal Australian male – butch, braying and full of swearing. He also happens to be hilarious. Bouncing around the stage with the untapped energy of an ADD sufferer, he seems more cartoon than real, a factor which covers him well when delivering the edgiest jokes in his set.

Brendon Burns’ latest show carries the audience along an absolute knife-edge: his humour is never less than challenging, his strongest punch lines preceded by heavy silences in which the audience try desperately to work out whether to laugh or take offence. The sense of release when the laughs do break is overwhelming – comedy reimagined as mass therapy.

The material here is broad in all senses, covering topics as diverse as the terrorist attacks on Glasgow airport and Burns’ resolute hopelessness with women. However, the overall theme of facing down taboos pulls it all together. Large mirrors flank the stage, reflecting the audience’s image back on themselves. Confrontational though it may be, this tactic eases us into an hour of powerfully honest stand-up.

If there was a single flaw, it would be that the message gets a little lost among all the red-faced wailing. Burns’ manic energy is obviously a big part of his appeal, but when married with themes as grand and universal as those examined here, it seems a grating union.

Nice dancing girls, though.