One of the top stand-ups at the Fringe, Stephen K Amos crafts a fine hour of comedy based on some deep self-contemplation.
He begins the main section of the show by telling us about his time at primary school, inventing for himself a more glamorous, showbiz series of black relatives in order to gain kudos in the in his deeply white 1970’s Midlands school playground. He moves from there via childhood visits to Nigerian relatives, through his university days to tell us how he started as a stand-up whilst keeping the fact secret from his parents who were hoping for a lawyer rather than a comic as a son.
He moves on to some darker times, when his twin sister’s cancer diagnosis helps him look at his life and what he’s doing with it in a different way.
In contrast to the show’s poster of Stephen reclining starkers in an armchair, there’s no physical nudity (leading to several disappointed sighs on the night I was reviewing). However, his other revelations are central to the evening, and these are cleverly used to build a plea for a world where people can just chill out a bit, and we can all be nicer to each other.
Along the way, a pleasantly large part of his set comes from audience interaction and the sometimes accidental humour that arises, showing him as a relaxed and accomplished performer, able to carry the audience with him at all times.
All in all, a cleverly built hour of fun, ending with some thought-provoking words from one of the nice guys of comedy at the top of his game.
