The air conditioning is noisily blasting out prior to the show, desperate to lower the temperature in the theatre. Outside, the heat has been incredible. Another warmest day of the year so far. I'm feeling sleepy but excited. I've never been to a Jason Manford show. The drive in was fine, except for the road closures coming off the motorway, with none of the sideroads off Bothwell Street open due to JJ Abrams' film Ghostwriter being filmed in those locations. My wife thought she saw Glen Powell, but it might have been his stunt double. I was too busy watching the crawl of traffic, realising too late that my lane was blocked off.
I didn't know who the support act would be and was delighted when Ray Bradshaw appeared on stage with his BSL interpreter. I've seen Ray many times and never failed to find him funny. He has a conversational charm that belies the sharpness of his jokes. I've heard most of the material before, but it still tickled me because it's so good. He's playing the Armadillo on April 11th next year.
During the interval, a stage hand brings on a tall chair and a table draped in black cloth, upon which stand a glass and a jug of water, along with a paper folder. The music playing is eclectic, including one of Jason's own, "Assembly Bangers", according to Shazam. Nena's 99 Red Balloons and Hayseed Dixie's version of Ace of Spades also stand out.
The theatre isn't sold out. Sales have been respectable with downstairs and the Circle mostly full, but the Balcony isn't open as far as I can see. Not surprising given he toured the same show last year at the Armadillo. The audience skews to an older demographic.
Jason's act is proper old-school storytelling. He talks about his family (six kids!) and his parents (his dad never comes to see his show - "I don't go and watch your brother doing his plumbing, do I?"). The chair, on which Jason is perched for most of the show, reminds us that he is a safe comedian, as he puts it—an entry-level comedian—and that description is fair. He knows how to craft a routine, stringing together sequences of jokes that persistently entertain. I don't nod off, despite the heat, though my eyes want to. It takes me a while to shift the idea that he's not Gary Barlow, half expecting him to break out 'Greatest Day,' their accents sounding identical. An hour and a half later, he's done, telling us he eschews the idea that comedy should end on a high note, then undercuts that with a verbally dextrous routine about whether comedy is art.
After the show, we popped to McDonalds for milkshakes and sucked them down until the paper straws dissolved as we headed back towards Bothwell Street to see if we could catch some Hollywood action. Unfortunately not. They were filming inside one of the buildings, so all we had to show for it was this picture and an aftertaste of decaying paper straw.
Ticket Price: £79.00 (for two tickets) plus Transaction charge £3.95 = £82.95 from Trafalgar Tickets
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