... but I stopped. Now I'm a dad, and may blog again...

Monday, April 30, 2012

583: A Man Talking

Stewart Lee matinée, The Lowry, Salford, 29th April

There was some loud music and a man in the far distance walked onstage. It's lucky I'd just got some new glasses two days earlier or I may have struggled to pick out any features of the moving black and grey blob. There was a little smoke; just the right amount. He started talking and saying things. Sometimes he moved about a little while saying things. Other times he stopped talking and moved more. People were laughing. The person I had bought the other ticket for fell asleep. Someone, left of centre, row L, upper circle, was laughing with such screeching abandon that the man on stage made passing reference to it. Row L is the second from the very back in a 2000-seater auditorium.

There was a bit where he talked about some stuff, and another bit where he talked about some other stuff. Then there was an interval where I was able to stand in a public toilet staring at the backs of urinating men before getting my own chance to urinate while being all to aware of the uncomfortable impatient eyes on my own back. Then I went back in and sat down again. Then I waited a little bit. Not too long. Then the talking man came back onstage and did more talking. There was a lot more laughing. Then seventeen semi-naked dancing girls came onstage and the talking man strapped himself into the seat of a flying drum kit which somersaulted and pirouetted over the sleeping heads of the audience. Then, upon landing, he took out a scalpel and peeled the flesh and skin off his hand and forearm revealing the mechanical metal workings within.

For the ultimate climax of the show we, the audience, were split into two categories, those who laughed and those who didn't, and herded into separate windowless trains. Those who laughed were taken to a location and allowed to proceed with their lives as normal, and those who didn't laugh were taken to the same location and allowed to proceed with their lives as normal. The same place and thing just different trains. We could have walked really. Afterwards a man in an exceedingly tall top hat spake to us through a megaphone and made us feel small. Then we walked home in the cold wind. Passing the big mysterious building with the words 'Manchester United' emblazoned on the side, we wondered what it could possibly mean and what might happen in such a strange and unknowable building. It's certainly too big to be someone's house.

The man was very good at talking. I would like to listen again. If you have enjoyed listening to him talk in the past you will probably enjoy listening to him talk in the present, or even in the future. If you have not enjoyed listening to him talk in the past you will probably not enjoy listening to him talk in the present, or even in the future. I liked it.

Me liking it, and the talking man.


Willis Shafthauer said...

Gah, I never knew this was on! I could have walked to that. Although I suppose that's always true, but I mean within about half an hour.

I saw him in Preston a few years ago, they'd booked him into the big theatre but no one in Preston likes him hardly so they just put a few chairs in the foyer.

He was talking then too, at one point a heckler, who had been laughing riotously up to this point, shouted:

"Well you've just talked about it for ten minutes!"

in an aggressive tone, regarding the Big Brother race row.

Stu looked confused, and said:

""Well yeah, I'm not sure how you thought this would work, but I'll be bringing up topics, and then talking about them."

Bit of a pause.

"Actually, you've made me question my entire act now. All I do is talk about things."

Another pause.

"I guess I had to come to Preston to learn humility, like so many others before me."

I enjoyed that. Coming from Preston. He said he had to step over human poo to get into the buildings rear exit too. It's a bad place.

Kevin Bradshaw said...

I walked and it took about half an hour through the blistering cold winds. Our ears were stinging.

After the show I searched 'Stewart Lee' on twitter (because of something he talks about in the routine) and someone had tweeted that they were supposed to be going but couldn't be bothered because of the weather. They went to the pub instead. Idiots.

There was also people walking out just as the routine was beginning to peak. To quote Stew in If You Prefer a Milder Comedian... "Don't wander around at this point. 'Cause if you've ever seen anything
ever, and have any sense of the internal logic of any piece of structured art, this is obviously nearly the fucking end".