You know you've picked the wrong event for a date night when the support act's final bit ends with him describing peeling off the rubbed-in, dried, hangover-wank cum from his belly. That's what I call a SPOILER. (Sorry if you plan to see scouse comedian Adam Rowe, who supported Bill Burr at the Armadillo last night).
I wasn't overly familiar with Bill's act. I knew his material wasn't as "challenging" as, say, Doug Stanhope's, but figured if my wife could laugh at Jim Jefferies she might be okay with Bill Burr.
Big mistake.
Even I didn't enjoy the night. This wasn't because Bill was bad. He wasn't. He was incisive in nailing a punchline, showed great craft in his callbacks and performed his routines expertly. I just didn't laugh much (by that I mean big belly laughs that catch you unaware and shake your insides). I felt more browbeaten than amused. The universal stuff was good and he mined a few home truths to good effect (a husband always being a work in progress; the thoughtlessness of car makers of yesteryear for only including an airbag for the driver as his family is wrecked around him, for example) but he also did a lot of America-centric material which didn't find my funny bone and at times challenged my patience.
Bill's comedy is borne from anger so does little to relax his audience. His thick Bostonian accent grates, he speaks fast and he curses like his mom couldn't find the soap to wash out his mouth. He doesn't make any apologies for who he is (nor should he) but I found it all a bit much. That was down to me.
The event info suggested he would do an hour, finishing at 9.30pm; he played an hour and a half, finishing at 10.15pm. My day had already been stressful right up to the point of arriving at my seat so it felt like I'd never relaxed the entire time and Bill didn't help this. I left the venue just as stressed as when I arrived. Not what I expect from a comedy night. My wife also didn't laugh so I felt an impending sense of 'oh dear, my brownie point share price has just crashed and burned'. Not conducive to being entertained.
Although we didn't laugh much, the audience loved him, giving him a standing ovation. This surprised me. I didn't think they'd be able to stand given the amount of alcohol I'd seen being brought in prior to the show, being carried deftly in those cardboard, wedgy trays (they knew the bar was closed during the performance). I think to appreciate Bill properly you need to have had a few beforehand to get you into his loud-mouth, barroom mindset. A lesson learned.
