I was disappointed with this gig, possibly because of my high expectations. Online, Vittorio is sharp, cutting and subversive. In person, at a sold-out King's Theatre, I struggled to make out what he was saying from my seat in the middle of the Grand Circle. Part of that was due to his Belfast accent, despite his slow, precise delivery, but mostly it was the room's acoustics, which are usually very good.
The evening had begun unusually. Usually, the PA plays a playlist of tracks chosen by the comedian, but tonight a four-piece Traditional Irish band was playing on stage. Very fiddle-de-dee. You could almost taste the Guinness.
The lights dimmed at 7.30pm for the show to begin, and the band left the stage, leaving their instruments on or beside their chairs. Vittorio came on, asked us to thank the band, and explained that they were called Cúig and usually performed as a five-piece, but he could only afford four. He then introduced his support act, Rosco McClelland. I'd heard some of Rosco's material from his Edinburgh livestream, but he was still okay.
After his set, there was an interval, and the band returned. A nice touch to boost bar sales by driving people out of the auditorium. I tried to blot them out and read a book.
Vittorio returned dressed smartly in a suit, with a white shirt and a thin tie. He reminded me of how I looked as a store manager at an area meeting. His material began with his relationship to the Troubles, only discovering that his family's ice cream shop had been blown up by the IRA when he read it in an old newspaper. The fact that his father never mentioned it just shows how little those who lived through the Troubles talk about it.
Vittorio had some great lines: He's lost weight the old-fashioned way, not with Ozempic, or, as it's known in Ireland, O'Zempic, with an apostrophe; and regarding the ice cream shop bombing, he asked why the newspaper didn't run with the headline "Bloody Sundae".
One weird thing happened when someone popped open a can and interrupted Vittorio's flow. He paused the show to ask everyone with a can to open theirs together on his count. One woman at the front complained she wasn't ready to drink hers, but he wasn't having it and insisted she comply. She wouldn't. Everyone else did; the sound of all the cans opening at once amused Vittorio. Later, the woman interrupted Vittorio to explain she'd managed to open her can of gin without disturbing the show. The irony!
I felt the show would have worked better in a club rather than a theatre. His delivery begs for intimacy, drawing you in, but a theatre show needs something bigger, which was rarely on show. He complained that someone at the Edinburgh Fringe recorded his finale, spoiling it for anyone who later attended. It also caused him grief, leading to a show being cancelled in Guildford because the subject matter was taken out of context. I won't spoil it for anyone here, but it was fitting.
Playout music: The Mary Wallopers - Cod Liver Oil & The Orange Juice
Ticket Price: £32.69 x 2 & £3.95 Transaction fee = £69.33 from ATG Tickets.
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