Doug Stanhope, appearing at the O2 Academy in Glasgow on Friday night, was on good form. I've seen him deliver excellent gigs and very poor gigs and tonight was definitely one of his better performances.
His material (both verbal and his stage costume) needed a strong stomach, as he regularly turned political correctness on its head. He knows his audience will go with him across that line in the sand to drink at the oasis beyond bad taste. Or leave. Whatever. He doesn't care. They've already paid. No refunds. I won't share his actual routines because I like my salary.
The show felt like a club gig, despite being held in a concert space with its high ceiling and echoey acoustics; despite the narrow rows of chairs facing the stage instead of tables; and despite there being a noisy balcony. Because the bar stayed open throughout, there was chatter within the auditorium for the whole of the gig. This also meant every inebriated, bearded youth had two reasons to get everyone in their row to stand up and let them out - one to go piss and another to get a refill. Narrows rows and wobbly boys carrying multiple pint pots don't mix well. I noticed one young lad stare incredulously as one pint (of the three he held wedged in both hands) spilled over his vacant seat. He stood for what seemed like ages, wondering how he was going to dry it so he could sit down. This during the gig. With rows and rows of people getting their view blocked as he considered the task ahead. He finally decided just to soak it up with his bum. Wriggle, wriggle. Ahhhh. Just another Friday night in Glasgow.
I loved the gig but hated the audience. There were too many drunken louts having conversations (you don't have to provide a background commentary to your mates: if you find it funny just laugh); or shouting out (not proper heckles, just random nonsense) to impress their also drunk mates. Doug is a time-served comedian capable of handling any audience trouble and tonight he dealt with the interruptions proficiently or just ignored them and continued with his bits. The show lasted nearly two hours, only once having to be halted due to an incident, near the end of his opening 'bit'.
It's the first time I've ever been to a comedy gig where a proper fight broke out, in front of the comedian. One combatant was tall with short brown hair and wore a black leather jacket; the other, sitting in the row in front of him, had a shoulder length perm and was the size of a fridge (which he probably emptied regularly). As the two sluggers wrestled and punched away, the audience lights went up so everyone could watch as their mates attempted to pull the two apart with difficulty, occasionally landing a blow themselves when the other party escaped his mates' bonds and lunged to have another go. As the rows were so narrow, the bouncers had to get the audience to rise to let them past on their way to reach the trouble makers, then ask them all to shuffle out so they could remove the offending party. Permy-hair bloke got to stay and we never did find out what started it.
Doug commented it was the first time his audience had beaten him to a punchline - with an actual punch. He was also able to relate the individual to his now interrupted mental health routine, which won a big cheer and applause.
Doug's comedy may not be classy but it is in a class of its own, just like his audience.
