Besides the stifling heat of the venue, Andrew Lawrence provided a show well worth the five pounds spent. His brand of comedy is unique and extremely quick-witted. Sick, twisted and brilliant, Lawrence uses material that covers both ends of the spectrum. Covering toilet humor to existentialism, he is all over the map. However, even when delivering his most crude jokes, which delve as low as eating his own feces, he maintains a very refined demeanor by using extremely sophisticated language. This juxtaposition of crass subject matter alongside of near poetic language somehow works. Think Vladimir Nobokov’s Lolita for the same principle.
It was interesting to observe the crowd’s response to his humor being that about a third of us were American. Paying close attention to who laughed when was an interesting study in cultural differences. A few jokes were made which were targeted toward British culture. During these jokes, the Americans seemed slightly lost. However, most his act was directed at a more general audience as long as one could follow his rapid speech, quick-wit and verbosity.
The show was thoroughly enjoyable minus the sweltering heat mentioned earlier. In the states, it is unimaginable to consider a venue holding a performance in an attic without any ventilation or air conditioning in the midst of summer. It was so hot two people left the room mid-performance. Even Lawrence made a comment about how unbearable it was as he tried propping open a few doors. Unfortunately, he could see he was losing his audience not due to his comedy but the discomfort of the sweltering heat. Perhaps England should start looking into more air conditioners.
No comments:
Post a Comment