Matthew Highton had absolutely no right to make this an enjoyable show. When a comic steps on their stage and sees 12 audience members littered around a venue that could sit perhaps six times that, a deflated performance should be almost guaranteed. Highton refused to let this overcome him and valiantly embarked regardless on his labyrinthine set. The afro-headed northerner is renowned for routines that gyrate and writhe down eccentric and seemingly pointless avenues. Indeed, as we learn of his homemade hadron collider, a BBC documentary about a lost KFC, a ridiculous story about noted astronomer Patrick Moore and are treated to his contortions a la David Bowie, some might be forgiven for thinking that they are bearing witness to a rather harrowing nervous breakdown. Each of these bizarre outbursts are told as if he’s a traditional observational comedian. It is highly amusing to hear Highton talking so matter-of-factly about subjects like Mickey Rourke’s love phoenix (surprisingly not an innuendo) in the same way your garden variety observational comedian would talk about whatever hackneyed topic takes their fancy. More than this, Highton, a fully paid up member of the nerd fraternity, slips in niche sci-fi references without a care for if the audience has even noticed. While the small number of people in the room does shift Highton off track at times, his ability to hold the 12 crowd members’ attention throughout is to be highly commended.Then there was the finale. This unbelievably well-constructed disentanglement of the aforementioned strands is an absolute pleasure to behold. I really am at odds to guess how Highton’s mind creates these complex and convoluted characters and stories and manages to marry them all together in an orgy of the odd. But he does it, and Highton’s 12 disciples left the room to spread the good (and bloody weird) word.
