Joe Wilkinson comments wryly that the convention is for a stand-up's debut show to focus on what's happened in their life so far, but unfortunately nothing interesting has ever happened to him.
The show is not irredeemable - there are some entertaining moments and Wilkinson's diffident charm and the Rowan Atkinson-esque glint in his eyes rescues him from dying completely.
It's a decent bit of self-deprecation to open the show, but his tongue-in-cheek comment summarises its basic flaw. As Wilkinson tells one boring anecdote after another about painfully generic topics it becomes increasingly obvious that he has nothing of note to share, and lacks the panache to put a fresh spin on tired material. He tells us about feeling a bit awkward in a strip club, suffering from diarrhea in a public toilet, and being emasculated by his inability to perform basic DIY tasks.
He moves from one routine from another in a seemingly random, stream-of-consciousness way that makes you feel like you're trapped in a conversation with a drunk on a bus - a feeling that is not dispelled by his softly spoken, mumbling delivery that makes parts of his material almost unintelligible.
The show is not irredeemable - there are some entertaining moments and Wilkinson's diffident charm and the Rowan Atkinson-esque glint in his eyes rescues him from dying completely. But after enjoying his turn as the painfully creepy neighbour in BBC3 sitcom Him & Her, and as one half of sketch group Two Episodes of Mash, I was disappointed by this solo debut. While much of his patter rests on his apparent uselessness, he was possibly living up to the character a little too much, as I couldn't help feeling he was trying, and failing, to find enough material to fill the hour.
