Thom Foole's House Party, 5th May

What even is Thom Foole’s House Party, we kept asking ourselves as we waited for the upstairs to open. None of us were sure what we were letting ourselves in for. But we took the gamble and it paid off.

It’s a comedy night of s special sort. With our inimitable host Wilmot Brown, several acts took to the stage and had many of the audience literally crying with laughter.

These comedians are all ‘character’ stand-up with their own stage personas. And none of them were afraid to push the envelope. It was all very surreal and I can see that it might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but if you like things a little off-kilter and making very little sense, then dive on into this night. We had a blast.

Wilmot himself is an older ‘gentleman’ (played by Marny Godden), certainly not suffering from a lack of confidence even if his career has seen better days. He’s a frisky sort too – at one point a member of the audience had been captured and was sequestered to the bed (why is there a mattress on stage??) for potential romantic liaisons later. 

The Establishment were the first act of the night (and perhaps my favourite) – two uberposh men, who crept through the audience uttering nothing but ‘mmmms’ and lasvicious ‘yeses’ as they peered at the audience members they passed. They were quintessential country Englishmen and dithered about onstage giving us a little window into their lives of silliness and casual arms dealing. 

We then had Lee Kern whose persona was someone incredibly awkward whose comedy act was to give us a presentation on the history of Rock and Roll. It was boring, it was dry and factual, he danced awkwardly, it was hilarious.

In between acts we had games! Yes, games. Musical statues, the equivalent of grandmother’s footsteps, charades, one lucky guy even got to play Kiss Chase with Wilmot. And there was a maypole dance. Oh – and Limbo! Yes, this night has it all.

Oh Standfast did what he called poetry/standup/art depending on whether you laughed or not (don’t laugh and it’s poetry, laugh and it’s standup – don’t get it? It’s art). And Sophie Pelham came on board with her two plastic babies strapped to her chest. I really liked the premise of her act and thought there was potential although it didn’t get quite the same belly laughs as some of the others.

The headline act was Mr Frank Sanazi himself. This old rogue is a crooner with the Axis of Evil rat pack, belting out the hits of Old Blue Eyes with a decidedly fascist twist. Expect lots of clever wordplay, taking some of the lyrics you’ve got to know and love and making them altogether more sinister. I think Frank was a pretty class act - he managed to get down the mannerisms of Frank Sinatra yet segue seamlessly into an impersonation of Mr Hitler. Who would have thought that combination would work so well?

If you’re of a sensitive nature then this night may not be for you, but if you’re up for a laugh, then you will get many at this event. Thom Foole knows how to throw a party.

Showstoppers, 22nd February

What can a musical that is completely improvised from audience suggestions possibly be like? A lot of fun I can tell you.

We take our seats and three musicians come on stage, along with Dylan Emery who turns out to be our show’s director-cum-narrator. A red phone rings. The premise is thus set – on the other end of the line is the producer (ostensibly Cameron Mackintosh) wanting to know if Dylan has a new show up his sleeves. Well, of course he does! Oh, what is it? Um… well… and here is where the audience has a chance to suggest the direction the show takes. We are asked for some settings and we end up with The International Space Station, Battersea Dog’s Home, the Titanic and one other. We then vote by cheering for the one we like the most. Battersea Dogs Home wins. We’re then asked for some musical styles to incorporate and the audience proffers Seussical the Musical, Fiddler on the Roof and South Pacific. Finally, Emery asks us for a style of musical that can be played on guitar. Of course we give him flamenco, the hardest to play.

Dylan gets back on the phone and tells Cameron he’s definitely got something and he’ll send over the script in about… ooh… 45 minutes? Just enough time for the actors to make something up. And hilarity ensues.

It really does. It’s improv so it’s not completely polished and you shouldn’t expect it to be. There are moments where the ‘actors’ don’t quite pick up each other’s cues, or they overlap but this is incredibly rare. They mostly succeed in putting together a very funny show, with a real narrative arc, and real, actual songs, that may even get stuck in your head! They sing in harmony, they dance in synchronization (nothing too fancy, mind) and each show is different from the last. I can’t guarantee this, having been to only one, but there were people in the audience who had clearly been before which I took as a sign that it doesn’t get too samey.

Our director doesn’t get involved in the storyline himself but instead his role is to interject and move the story along when necessary, or to interrupt in order to, basically, mix things up and challenge the performers. So, in the first half, he stopped the action to say they needed to sing the next number in a fun, punny, rhyming kind of way a la Seussical the Musical, and in the second act, he made them all sing one in the style of ‘the fast one’ from Urinetown – very fast-paced and quite the challenge to the actors.

Audience participation didn’t end with the beginning of the show. In the interval we were asked to tweet our suggestions about what would happen, which lead to our main protagonist (a female dog who wanted to be adopted and just get away from Battersea Dogs Home at any cost, despite having an admirer) being adopted by Snoop Dogg, and realizing that living with a human isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Of course, the other Dogs Home inhabitants come and find her and they all live with Snoop in a happy ending.

As well as being fairly consistently funny, they managed to get a few touching moments in, as each couple had their own lovestory and sometimes even a backstory. It was so entertaining that the first half positively whizzed by, although I must admit the pace slowed a little in the second half. There were still plenty of laughs to be had throughout.

I had thought £19 was a little expensive for this, but considering it is practically a real, full-length show, I think that’s a pretty decent price. If you love musicals and like to laugh, this is for you. 

Talking to Strangers, 4th December

Well, sorry for being away from the blog for so long! I thought I’d get loads of blogging done over Christmas when I was off work but instead I did none.

I have loads and loads of posts to catch up on, so better-than-normal service resumes now…

Talking to Strangers is a pleasing blend of spoken word, music and comedy with a little extra surprise thrown in. 

First up we had Lucy Cait, a student singer-songwriter who had a voice much older than her years. I should probably avoid comparisons with Laura Marling, but I don't really listen to that sort of stuff off my own bat, so of course this is what I thought of - but not just because I'm lazy but also because she seemed to have the same pattern of faster, upbeat music, followed by something more swelling. Voice-wise she reminded me of a higher pitched Tracy Chapman. Considering we were such a small group I thought she did really well in her performance, and used it to her advantage, getting us all to clap and sing along at various points. I wouldn't be surprised if I saw her crop up elsewhere in the future.

We then had a poet, who, funnily enough, I had seen before at Velvet Tongue. I thought he looked familiar but only realised when he did his erotic piece and mentioned where he'd performed it before. He was alright - I must admit, he didn't give me chills the way other people I've seen have, and even though he was performing political poetry that seemed to slot into my beliefs quite easily, for some reason I didn't relate that well. It felt forced to me, and I found myself drifting off slightly.

Kadeem, on the other hand (a co-host but this was his last show) had exactly the right touch of humour and serious points to think on, to keep me fully engaged in what he was saying.

After the break we had a special surprise, which I kind of don't want to spoil for anyone who may attend one of these in the future but at the same time I want to mention. Well, look away now if you don't want to know... Talking to Strangers isn't just a cool name. There is an element of this involved. One lucky punter is plucked from the audience and plunked down in a chair and the rest are invited to throw questions at him or her. When I went they picked a gnarly dude who was quite the character (his name was Leopold Growler which probably tells you all you need to know) and so it worked really well. He'd clearly travelled and seen a lot and wasn't shy to share his worldly wisdom with us in a very amusing manner.

As almost the headline act, we had a stand-up set from Andrew Doyle, who reminded me of a cross between Jack Dee and Stewart Lee in his mannerisms and way of speaking. After a slightly rocky start where I thought he might be unbearably arch, he turned out to be very funny. He certainly didn't hold back from throwing a few politically incorrect shocks out to the audience - even if some of them were 'quotes' from other people. (Talking about why he hasn't come out to his mother, he mentioned she once lamented 'Well, Aids did its best'). My only complaint would be that he seemed to think we couldn't handle it. Some of it was a little close to the bone (see above) but if it makes me laugh then it's acceptable in my mind.

And then finally the other co-host Sarah took to the stage and did some of her poetry - because what's the point of running a poetry night if you don't get to perform yourself?

The hostess, Sarah, I can imagine might be a little polarising - she has that sort of twee, girly demeanour that some might find irritating. Also, the girls that run it were either a bit tiddly, or just rather proprietorial, or both, as they had no qualms about shouting out or talking over the acts that were there (spoiling Andrew’s punchline in one instance). In another setting it would be construed as heckling but here it wasn’t malicious, just a by-product of encouraging everyone to get involved and the acts were quite happy to go along with it.

It’s a low-key, intimate and fun little affair. 

Shoot From the Hip, 20th May

I wasn't sure what to expect from an improvised comedy show. My only real experience of improv was the fabulous Austentatious crew who take an audience's made up title of a ‘lost’ Jane Austen work and from it construct an entire play, completely off the cuff. I didn't think Shoot From the Hip would be doing anything like that, but didn't know what it was they would do. I guess, in my head, they would just be doing something akin to standup, only without a fixed routine.

Instead, we were treated to a lot of shorter, scenario-based scenes, along the lines of that great comedy show Whose Line is It Anyway? The audience were invited to make suggestions which were woven into the content in the scene, or used as a starting point. And the results were absolutely bloody hilarious, having us in stitches the whole time. It far exceeded my rather vague expectations.

The troupe consists of five lads (very easy on the eye I might add), and they were all as strong as each other in terms of comedic performance and timing. Each 'round' if I can call it that, followed a different format, some of which were straight improvisations in a scenario, others were more like a game. In the first one for instance, four of them lined up and one 'conducted' the others. They were doing a verbal version of that game everyone (girls anyway) plays when they're younger - writing a sentence down and then passing it to someone else to continue the story. The one conducting pointed at each of the others randomly, and if they weren’t quick enough off the mark, or if they said something that didn't make sense, we all had to jeer, and they were forced out of the sequence, taking over the role of conductor instead. Or, there was a round where they played out a scene, but the emotion they portrayed changed whenever the audience was prompted to shout out a new one. Rage segued seamlessly into despair which, in a flash became lust.

One of my favourites was the 'Foreign film' round. Two of them played out a storyline on stage in 'Spanish' - and what excellent, completely fake Spanish skills they had. Then the others on the side proceeded to 'translate' the scene in English as it unfolded. Describing such a thing does no justice to the hilarity it provoked.

There were some more 'straightforward' scenes, if you can call a pirate sci-fi story set in a tree straightforward. or one in which an alcoholic doctor is forced out of the army to come home to his sweetheart only to sober up and realise he's been viewing her with beer goggles for the entire romance. 

They played it so well, some of them playing it straight, some of them slightly sillier. It all zipped along apace and there wasn't a dull, unfunny moment. My friend and I cackled ourselves silly throughout the whole thing, and I'm sure we'll be back. They're on every Tuesday at the Top Secret Comedy club, and I would never have known had they not tweeted me and suggested I come along. Entry is free to everyone, just get down there early enough to grab a seat (the whole place was pretty full by the time we got there just before it started). 

Two Floors and The Dark Room, 12th May

All together now 'You awake! And find yourself in a DARK ROOM!' How do you get out? Well, I don't bloody know and I sat through about 12 different people trying. So far, out of all the shows he's ever done, only TWO people have managed to escape this mysterious Dark Room guided, or should I say taunted, by the floating head of John Robertson...

After some introductory laughs (John Robertson is a standup of sorts) and explaining (kind of) where the show gets its inspiration and what is about to happen, the lights go off and John dons what looks like a pared down version of a Ghostbusters pack. Only (or, well, mainly) his head is illuminated and thus begins your adventure simulating one of those choose your own adventure type 80s video games. The rules are strict - you must say the color and word of the route your wish to take, or you get told off and ridiculed by the floating head. And beware... most routes lead to... Well, a not very happy ending.

It's a weird, twisted and above all funny ride as John randomly picks people from the audience to try their luck in the Dark Room. There seems to be no real rhyme or reason to what happens in this room, except that John thought it funny to put it in there.

The only frustration with the show comes from being powerless while other people make all the decisions, unless of course you're picked on to guide the group. Most of the time the participants in the show I went to see ended up going down almost exactly the same route as someone who had just played, which is annoying as obviously you want to see as many of the different outcomes as possible, even if they all (seemingly) end up with the same result. Luckily there is a round built in to stem this frustration... The Dark Room seems to have a bit of a cult following among some who come again and again in the hopes of figuring out John's twisted mind and getting out into the light. In one round, one of these gets to have a go and show us all how it's done. No, they too end up ... well, in a not very happy ending... but it opens up a whole new range of possibilities that the audience can then take advantage of in the next round... The crowdsourced round.

This one relies on popular opinion - the audience decides as on which choices to take but not by voting per se - just by everyone shouting for the option they want and John trying to determine which is the most popular. Those who have been paying close attention in the previous round try to replicate that to get us as far as possible. I think when I went we managed maybe 12 in a row before we ended up... well, not in a very happy ending.

Every participant wins a prize - a prize you would never want, but a prize none the less.

John Robertson is a funny, Aussie, not afraid to goad his audience, who keeps the whole thing ticking along at a fast pace. I don't want to go into too much detail as discovering how it works and what it is all about is half the fun. You should go and see for yourself.

Two Floors

Just before we went over to Gem Bar for the Dark Room we had a couple of drinks in Two Floors off Kingly Street. It was a dark and rainy day and Two Floors wasn't at all what I'd imagined. It has a tiki bar so I was picturing kitsch and colourful, but actually it's quite a cool, kinda dark, laid back bar. The tiki bar is downstairs and I don't think it was open when we went so I have that yet to explore. This is a good place if you don't quite fancy a pub, but also don't want a tacky, overpriced Soho bar.

Stranger than Fiction, 7th May

Stranger than Fiction is a new literary night that brings together several elements to entertain you. Perhaps even, slightly too many elements, because I think by the end of the evening our attention spans had rather drifted, but it was still a really good evening and one I'd recommend to the literary lovers out there.

Predominantly (just) it’s a night of performance by writers and spoken word artists on a given theme. They can speak, emote or perform for 7 minutes and at the end the audience picks their favourite. This inaugural event chose First Love on which to linger and we had some excellent performers. First up was Gemma Weekes who did a spoken word piece which raised the hairs on the back of my neck about a love that might not have been her first, but was certainly seismic, and she also performed a song to a backing track, which was slightly less effective.

Our second performer was Rhodri Marsden, the winner of the evening, who charmed us with his tale of first love (well, second if you don’t count the Wombles) and how you can be so convinced someone is right for you (mainly because they are a girl, and in your vicinity) and then over the years discover just how wrong you can be. It was delivered with touching, and sometimes rather cutting, humour. For his troubles he was presented with a small, but life changing prize - a ukelele. Given that he professes to hate the instrument, it could indeed change his life should he choose to give it a chance.

The third performance was a comedic set from Grainne Maguire who supported Rob Delaney on his tour recently, which just proves Stranger than Fiction aren't pulling any old performers off the street. I really liked her tale of lusting after the boy who wasn’t interested, only for it to lead her to the guy she’d been ignoring who was right under her nose. The story ended with hands brushing and realisation beginning to stir…

And finally we had a piece from France, otherwise known as Dan Carpenter, who was participating in the United Nations (a field trip) and had a crush on the United States (a girl). Oh, how France believed that together, diplomacy could be more than made but for some reason the US just wasn't interested.

So with only four acts, the night was surprisingly varied. Interspersed with each performer, is a literary pub quiz of sorts. I love a pub quiz and this was the right level of challenging yet answerable. There were also two rounds which weren't your usual – one where our inimitable host Dixe Wills shouted out words or phrases that related to a book and whoever shouted out the answer first got the points. This is where I think we scored quite well, getting two of the answers, and depriving other teams of those much-needed points. Another round was for all those foreign candy bar lovers out there – deciding whether a flavour of Kit Kat was a real Japanese flavour or not. We scored abysmally here, only getting about half right.

Naturally there was a prize for the winner, and even the runners up, which I’m happy to say, was my team, after I delivered the tie-breaker answer. As a prize, we got a book. That's right one book to share between the six of us. Oh well - clearly it was meant as a symbol of winning rather than an actual prize. First prize was, of course, booze, as it always should be.


On top of this, running through the evening, we were encouraged to tweet our own mini-stories of first love, and then Dan Carpenter picked his favourite to also win a prize (or it might have just been recognition, my memory is a little hazy, and the night was wearing on).

I think they’ve got a good thing going here, and they’re doing enough to set them apart from the other literary nights already in existence. They are probably most similar to Literary Death Match but that can be a bit hit and miss whereas this, I think, actually delivers more interactivity, and more fun. The next Stranger than Fiction is scheduled for June 4th and promises to explore a person's 'darkest hour'...

Dirty Book Club, Robin Ince, 20th January

The Dirty Book Club has the 'honour' of being blogged about because way back when I started leafing through Time Out's 1000 Things to Do in London and compiling my spreadsheet of things I wanted to do, Robin Ince's Bad Book Club was one of those things. But, when I looked to see when it happened, it seemed he was no longer doing it - not in London anyway. But I kept my beady eye on him... Cue three years later and the announcement that Bad Book Club's naughtier younger sister was kicking off - Dirty Book Club. I had to go. And I thought my Meetup would like to go too.

The mere blurb about it proved immensely popular and I had almost 70 members sign up to go. The general public were also pretty keen as within 2 hours of tickets going on sale, half the tickets had gone. But a good whack of my group managed to get tickets and I reckon with about 30 of us there we probably made up a quarter of the audience.

With so many people, you would think at least some of them wouldn't end up liking the show but everyone I spoke to was full of praise. They all had different favourite bits but overall they just seemed to love it. As did I.

It wasn't quite what I was expecting - I thought it would be a shorter show of mainly Robin Ince reading from Mills & Boon ripoffs and casting about wry comments on the contents, with maybe another guest doing the same from their own choices. It was actually more of a variety show, and the reading of the 'dirty' books made up the minority of the entertainment (sadly there were many books he didn't get to as we ran out of time). 

Robin had four other guests with him in fact, all people he has performed with in the past and it was very obvious they all knew each other and held each other in affection. It was great to see a woman performing and doing an excellent job of being funny - she did a couple of 'ditties' - the first one in the style of jazz, all about sexual intercourse euphemisms, and then another in 'rousing British wartime' mode about remembering Britpop. (Think a lot of people were fond of this one as we were all of a certain age.) I particularly liked her 'diary' a la Celia Johnson from Brief Encounter. I haven't even seen the movie but I knew exactly the sort of frivolous disposition she was lampooning.

We had some amusing anecdotes from Chris Neill who, unfortunately (or fortunately, as he put it, as he didn't have a punchline for his story) spent less time on stage than planned due to being struck down by some irascible broccoli, and exiting stage left to go directly to the toilet.

We were also treated to a cover of Prince's 'Sexy M.F.' complete with commentary on the absurdity of the song, and played on an accordion by Martin White. This act was really funny - only just about funnier than the meltdown he had at his first breath, being overcome by a fit of the giggles. With everyone in the audience in hysterics with him, it took many deep breaths to summon the iron will to curb the giggles and continue. 

George Egg's incredibly dry humour didn't always seem to find its mark with everyone (I liked it) but no one could help but succumb to the 'sublime' word imagery, or food porn, that Nigel Slater committed in the excerpts from Real Cooking that George read out. It was so filthy it can't have been anything other than deliberate - 'tossing around a piece of hot sausage in your mouth as you suck and blow'?!

Some bits for me dragged a little - the various 'sundry' names of male and female genitalia was  laboured on a little too long. But on the whole it was a really good night. The 'word jazz' at the end - an almost freestyling concurrent recital of 50 Shades of Grey and the Shipping Forecast is genius even as it properly brought home to me just how awfully written 50 Shades is.

Here's a picture, just to prove I was there.