Paul Foot
Purveyor of the absurd, Paul Foot returns with his first new show in two years, the wonderfully titled 'Tis A Pity She's A Piglet (what did you expect from the man who gave us Hovercraft Symphony In Gammon Sharp Major?). If you've not heard of Paul Foot, and trust me when I say you would remember if you had. Imagine the adult love child of recent Outline cover star Neil Hannon and Slade guitarist Dave Hill, with the preening, prancing presence of Russell Brand (but infinitely less punchable) and you'd be getting close.
Tonight kicks off with Foot's long time collaborator and regular support act Malcolm Head who provides us with twenty minutes of poetry, age bingo (audience members shout out an age and Head responds with a bingo-caller style sentence which is a universal truth about that age, e.g. "37, don't think that you're too young to get arthritis"), some alternative friendly football chants and haikus. Last time I saw him he performed my two favourite haikus of all time; both made an appearance tonight and as great as they are, I can't help but feel a little disappointed that he hasn't come up with a totally new set in the last two and a half years, but as the man himself points out, haikus are great because they only take ten seconds and then you've moved onto the next one. He's funny and engaging throughout and well worth tracking down if comedy poetry is your bag. Think of him as a more accessible version of Tim Key for those of you that find the works of Key too odd.
Then again, if you have an aversion to oddness, what the hell are you reading a Paul Foot review for? After the interval, the man himself bounds onto the stage. This is less 'stand-up' comedy and more a 'whirling dervish of hair, tight trousers and silver shoes' comedy. Foot just can't stop moving, his body convulsing in strange rhythms across and frequently off the stage (if you don't like comedians involving you in their act, never ever go to a Paul Foot gig, and if you do find yourself at one, definitely don't sit in the front row!). It's like watching an excitable glam-rock pony practicing dressage, and is mesmerising throughout. He could be speaking a foreign language and his physical performance alone would be worth the ticket price.
The main bulk of the show is made up of what Foot claim's to be a new type of comedy called Literal Surrealism, described as comical scenes that are "possible, but highly unlikely". From an amateur astronomer/prostitute that services clients to be able to afford increasingly expensive stargazing equipment, to distraught parents ashamed of their baby's overwhelming body odour, Foot flits between these with no attempt at segues, just blasting through from one hilarious situation to the next. This isn't a new type of comedy though, it's just a new way of describing what he's been doing for years, and although these are all new scenarios that he's describing for us the format is exactly the same as his last tour.
Amongst the surreal flights of fancy are some more traditional observational comedy routines, albeit performed in Foot's idiosyncratic style. They include the perils of attending an "all boys" school, culminating in a tale of the nihilistic destruction of the sixth form common room which falls rather flat, and a well realised bit about the natural entropy of a long term relationship and how that is magnified when on holiday together, which would probably make a fantastic standalone play in itself.
About two thirds through the show there were a couple of bits that didn't quite hit with the crowd, and although I personally found them funny, something happened that I had not seen at a stand up show in a long time - there was a slight change in mood from the audience and it looked as if Foot was starting to lose us. He obviously noticed it too and being the consummate professional that he is, he cut short that routine whilst still giving us enough for it to make sense and followed it up with the best line of the night, not once letting it affect the energy of his performance. Fully back on board, he kept the crowd on side until the end.
All told, it was an entertaining evening in the company of a truly unique performer, assaulting us with a barrage of ranting rage, random non sequiturs and prancing silliness. What more could you possibly want from Paul Foot?
