Welcome to the house party. It’s midnight, and according to Fin Taylor’s mate, this is the perfect setting for his random, pensive comedy. He gives a beer to one audience member to set the mood before we embark on a trip inside his mind: what dwells there is a sedated zaniness – absurd creativity on Ritalin.
In his more energetic moments, Taylor exposes some vicious teeth, taking meaty bites out of chino-wearers and privileged elderly theatre-goers.
This is clearly a great strength of Taylor’s; he’s capable of drawing us into his weird inner thoughts, slowly and deliberately, feeding us some fascinating, enjoyably pointless hypotheticals. His segment on serial killers’ diets is a delight; his ruminations on modes of animal birth satisfyingly weird.
There’s a lot that doesn’t quite join up, though. Is the show about his annoying flatmate? Is it about his body image? Is it about climate change? Or is it about his instinctive protectiveness of penises?
Not that the show has to be about anything in particular, really – but the strange links suggest Taylor’s put less thought into stringing together the assortment of topics than he’s capable of. It does feel like a late-night monologue from a house-party stoner, but I’m not sure that’s an especially good thing.
In his more energetic moments, Taylor exposes some vicious teeth, taking meaty bites out of chino-wearers and privileged elderly theatre-goers. But despite playfully wishing he was less intellectually engaged with the world – so he wouldn’t have to think about things so much, lol – there are also moments when he’s wilfully lowbrow, as if he’s trying to prove he’s not a wanky twat.
We gather as much from what he likes doing with pizza – a bit of punctuation that seems to be included simply as a memorably bizarre anecdote to tell your friends. It’s funny on a basic level, but where exactly does it leave Taylor’s set?
Somewhere frustratingly out of focus. I don’t want to suggest he’s not made an effort – because there are flourishes here that have clearly been lovingly polished – but I’m pretty sure he could pull his finger out further without upsetting his unruffled vibe.