If you’re looking for some light hearted comedy to pass the time, don’t go to see Sean McLoughlin. If you want an hour of a brutally honest, at times uncomfortably candid but still fairly amusing monologue, then do.
This humour stems from a dark place, self-deprecating to the extreme; at times you want to give him a cuddle, other times you want to run a mile.
Topics range from politics to his personal life. And I do mean personal life. Sean puts himself on a plate for you - laid bare, his innermost musings thrown at you to interpret and receive as you will. This humour stems from a dark place, self-deprecating to the extreme; at times you want to give him a cuddle, other times you want to run a mile. His self-loathing is sometimes unpleasant but he often manages to save the joke before it gets too intense. It’s unclear if he wants pity, respect, someone to rant to, or a drinking buddy besides his Dad, but it is clear he has a passion for his work.
Sean’s stage presence fits with the tone of the show. He doesn’t command the floor with effortless elegance nor does he loiter in the shadows. He likes to get you involved in some of his sketches, but you run the risk of (good-humoured) humiliation if you volunteer information about yourself. Word to the wise, don’t say you are from Wiltshire. Or Gillingham. Or Brighton. Maybe just keep quiet.
Even if you don’t find his dark wit amusing, the guy demands your respect. It’s a work in progress unlikely to progress into anything more comfortable to watch - an hour of frivolous giggles and chuckles if definitely not on the cards, but that’s not what you’d expect from Sean. He’s a comedian doing what he loves, as himself; there is something refreshing in the sincerity of his work. If you want to get to know him, go along - but only if you think you can handle the honesty.