On entering the venue, Tom Wrigglesworth perches on a stool playing melodious chords on the guitar, whilst passing a running commentary on the audience members as they enter the space. This works very well, and he has the crowd on-side before they have even taken to their seats. I have a very good feeling about this show.
'I'm struggling to see how that's helping' pays homage to all things needlessly complex, which places particular emphasis on the concept of 'moving gravy'. Don't ask - all will be revealed.
Dressed in a shirt teamed with smart trousers and Birkenstocks - on a very rainy day may I add - Wrigglesworth declares that he is fully aware that he has the body of Peter Crouch and the face of Postman Pat. This only endears us more.
Wrigglesworth presents to us a plethora of genuinely funny observations, pointing out the absurdity of everyday life that reguarly goes unnoticed. For instance, he highlights the madness of the supermarket with its aisles labelled with friviolous lines such as 'everyday cheeses' and 'adult cereals'. Problematic printers, deviants with music blaring from their mobile phones and pretentious social climbers all come under scrutiny by Wrigglesworth in an intensely funny manner. Wrigglesworth's wit and dry humour are teamed with a sophisticated level of intelligence. When commenting on the human condition, he remarks rather poignantly that we very often have a solution before we have a problem.
There is a fluidity to all subject matter which appears to blend seamlessly no matter how random the topic. It is clear that the audience adore Tom Wrigglesworth and I must confess I am pretty smitten myself. Bright, witty, charming and strangely sexy this show is not to be missed.
