The Stand, Glasgow
Show starts 21.00
The beauty about the Thursday Show at The Stand is that the line-up repeats itself for the Saturday Show two days later; an iPlayer for lovers of live comedy, if you will. Tonight’s show offered its expected well-selected farrago of treats inside the Woodlands Road venue, compered by the hardest-working beard in the business, Martin Mor. The enthusiasm from our Irish host was infectious and he quickly endeared himself to the audience after snagging a pair of glasses in the afore-mentioned beard, exhibiting a frenetic application not too dissimilar from the evening’s headline act.
Opening performer of the night Julia Sutherland indulged the crowd with personal experiences ranging from weight loss to working within the media. Initially, Sutherland appeared a little tense, back firmly pressed against the infamous Stand logo on the wall behind her. However, with confidence growing and laughs scattered around the crammed venue, it was her regaled yarns about working as a life model which earned her most considerable laughs – and left the word “seepage” dripping in our ears.
The second segment of the evening was split between Glaswegian Richard Hunter and East Londoner Quincy. Hunter’s deadpan delivery was executed expertly, toying with the comedy of his own name to issues such as internet dating sites and marriage. It would not be unfair to compare Hunter’s straight-faced idiosyncrasies being on a par with a young Jack Dee. This was swiftly followed by the charismatic Quincy enforcing his well-rounded and polished personality quickly on the crowd. This set was split into two – the former segment surrounding his sons’ footprint on the world thus far – and latterly, dealing with relationships and parenthood. There was a relaxed and sanguine delivery by a genuine performer with whom the audience instantly connected with.
Prior to his new “Off The Hook” tour across the UK in 2015, the endlessly-endearing Dylan Moran bookended the night in typical, capital ramshackle form. As Moran described himself as a “middle class, white, boring, bumbling fuckwit”, the crowd lapped up his inscrutable kidney of comedy, and despite an unfortunate incident whereby a member of the audience made Moran lose his train of thought, it was mercifully turned in Moran’s favour as he listed varying accounts concerning loss of memory and energy as time takes its toll. With a firm ‘home’ support, Moran settled in quickly to anarchic maunder about politics, without dislodging the connection he had with the audience – no mean feat on a Thursday student night. It is difficult to pinpoint jokes within Moran’s set and a far more easier feat to settle into his spirited and animated character that has acquainted itself with audiences up and down the country over the last two decades. Then as quickly as he had barged on to the tiny stage, Moran departed with a swift “See you soon – thanks, bye” behind the curtain.
Just as one audience member had educated us earlier in the evening that the Lithuanian for ‘hello’ is “Labas”, Dylan Moran demonstrated the true meaning of “Sláinte” as the audience advanced towards the exits, dregs in glasses toasted towards the bar, roaring into the damp November evening.
Reviewer : Stephen Watt