Nick Revell: Gluten-Free Christ; Seven Easy Steps to Mindfulness, Weight-Loss, Eternal Beauty, Spiritual Detox, Untold Riches, and Dealing with Disappointment

There is no doubt that Nick Revell is an amusing and witty comic whose capabilities are evident from both long line of positive past reviews and his catalogue on YouTube. He carries with him a thespian-speaking style that helps him articulate his streams of consciousness into lurid, pretty tales of wonder and fascination, wherein lies the breadth of his comedy. However, this particular show did not efficiently display Revell’s more ingenious qualities, rattling off vapid, protracted soliloquies that, whilst amusing, were delivered far too quickly to be enjoyed. I was really disappointed from what initially seemed to be a very promising act. What started as an easy four stars became wholly exhaustive.

If only he didn’t try to race the clock he could have easily been four stars or higher.

Revell admonishes the popular conspiracy theories surrounding the world’s wealthiest whilst simultaneously denouncing the self-righteous, unearned attitudes common with the super-rich. Luck and fortune, or righteous destiny? The long-winded stories manage to offer an amusing explanation for the reason the way the world is, satirising contemporary society with acute analysis, but this often verges upon stoner chat with vague, nonsensical anecdotes, that, whilst mildly amusing, goes off the beaten track into babble territory. There is certainly no lack of imagination where Nick Revell is concerned, that much is true. But he habitually goes off on unnecessarily long tangents. Fair play that he has the breath in him to rave for so long, but slow down for f***k’s sake!

Revell’s speaking tempo follows a pattern of slow, melodic, fast, faster, hyper then overdrive; then returns to what he was originally talking about after going off on a twenty-minute tangent. Like a wind-up toy, once he starts he’ll never shut up. His insistence on squeezing every minor detail into his endless monologue costs him big time and takes a toll on the audience. When I looked around the room, I saw a collection of bamboozled faces all bearing the same expression and all thinking the same thing: where the hell is he going with this? Revell would be better in short bursts than with excessive speeches that are wearisome on the attention span. Don’t get me wrong: the material is funny. But the speed of his delivery doesn’t give you a chance to even laugh, and ruins the intended outcome. Effectively, he is fast-forwarding on his own esteemed comedy.

After his first monologue he regained a lot of composure, but towards the end he began to unravel. If only he didn’t try to race the clock he could have easily been four stars or higher. But perhaps, as Revell points out, it’s not so much the destination as much it is the journey. It’s a shame that doesn’t quite work with stand up.

Reviews by Stuart Mckenzie

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The Blurb

A traumatic year of near-death experiences, bricolage living, holistic quantification and other meaningless buzzwords has transformed Revell from a mere 'consistently excellent' (Guardian) 'master satirist' (Time Out) into an Unassuming Visionary who will definitively reveal the Eternal Mysteries of the Universe. Imagine William Blake does stand-up. Terms and conditions apply. No trigger warnings, safe spaces, spirulina. 'Scalpel-sharp satirist' (London Evening Standard). 'Easy delivery and a great stage presence' (Times). 'Fiercely funny... insightful, incandescent' (Herald).