Rhod Gilbert is a notoriously dour comedian. A bit miserable and matter of fact. Funny though, but cynical and blunt. And tonight we’re promised that things will get beyond blunt.
Rhod’s latest tour – Rhod Gilbert and the Giant Grapefruit – is all about his battle with cancer over the last 3 years. Well, they do say that we can find humour in anything.
As he takes the stage he’s quick to warn us that things are going to get dark. But we know why we’re here and exactly what the circumstances of the show are. Gilbert has fought and beaten head and neck cancer, after the discovery of a growth – that’ll be the grapefruit – on his neck. Ironically, this was found during a trek in South America to raise funds for his local cancer hospital. And as the man himself says, when life throws you lemons, you make lemonade. But when life throws you grapefruits, you’re never going to be sure quite what to do. But, like comedians are inclined to do, he made a joke out of it and took it on tour.
It’s a very different night of comedy that begins with the comic asking if there are any people in the audience who’ve also had cancer. But it works. There are, I suppose as you’d statistically expect, a fair few audience members who have gone through and recovered from cancer. A couple of people have even had the same cancer as Gilbert and so some of tonight is spent discussing what they’ve been through. It’s never indulgent and always funny (which feels like a weird thing to write even now).
It’s a brilliant show. Gilbert is, as ever, engaging and forthright. Nothing is held back, meaning that a few thousand of us are treated to tales of cancer based constipation that we probably could have done without! But, even when we’re cringeing about it, we’re laughing. Along the way, we’re treated to tales of John, Rhod’s driver while he was unable to drive himself, who is ridiculed mercilessly.
As promised, there are lots of darker moments tonight. It’d be impossible to avoid after a 3 year cancer journey. But it’s actually uplifting. Brutally honest and all the while searching for a bright spot, but it’s dark. I find myself wondering whether or not it’s ok to laugh at times, but realise that the whole room is laughing so it’s probably the whole point. Sometimes, when the chips are down, if you don’t laugh, well you’ll probably cry and I know which I prefer.
There’s a brilliant section near the end of the set where Rhod gives out awards for those who’ve featured in his battle against cancer. I won’t give the game away as some of you might go to see the show in the coming months, but there’s a brilliant tale involving a trip to get treatment that almost ended up in Aberdeen of all places. And remember, Gilbert lives in Wales! There are also awards for those who reached out to Rhod during his last 3 years, some with wise and beautifully written, sage pieces of advice…and others where it’s just plain weird.
The show ends with Rhod now offstage and a video that was made during his treatment. Keeping with the themes of the night, it’s funny while also being really sad at times and we’re given just that extra little bit of insight into Gilbert’s character. Thankfully, it’s been a happy ending and I dare say that there was more than just me in the room who was choking back a few tears as Rhod rang the bell to signal that he’d beaten cancer.
It’s 10.40 on Sunday night and I’ve just got home. My face aches, particularly across my cheekbones and I think I probably need a go on my inhaler. I feel genuinely knackered, but it’s not a bad thing though…just the result of spending some of my evening laughing like a drain in Russell Kane’s company.
I last saw Russell probably over 10 years ago and so, given the amount of time, I’m not entirely sure what to expect. What I do know is that it’s going to be a very physical kind of gig. A bit like Lee Evans but with a better sense of style and far more up to date references.
First up tonight is Jack Skipper, a comedian I must admit that I’ve never heard of. But that’s part of the treat here. I mean, us middle aged types aren’t often out on a Sunday night anyway, but as far as a bit of mystery is concerned, I’m restricted to the pub quiz, the meat raffle and a bit of ‘open the box’ if I’m lucky! So a mystery comedian is fine with me!
It can be quite awkward seeing any new comedian though. I’m always immediately aware of the chance that they might just die on their arse and I was brought up to always try to be polite. What do I do if he’s just not funny? Happily though, Jack raises some decent laughs early on before then dropping a C bomb and really warming us up.
Starting off by talking us through how he’ll pay his kids back for all of the early mornings that they provide him with when he’s hungover, he then moves on to the fact that we’re out on a Sunday night – a miracle for some of us if it’s not on the calendar! Particularly true in our house! He’s an ex carpet fitter, so gives us some jokes and stories about his time in that particular trade as well as his take on his school days and the fact that he feels that he’s just not that bright. Bright or not, Jack Skinner leaves us all with a warm glow and the feeling that we’ve just seen a future star. There’s a hint of Micky Flanagan and a touch of Jack Whitehall, while also having something akin to Russell Kane himself in there, yet Skinner definitely has his own way. He’s funny, relatable and likeable and deserves his success when it comes.
Now normally when reviewing any kind of gig I’ll have some points of reference. So, if it’s a band it’ll be notable songs and if it’s a comedian, it’s the topics they talk about or just a great gag. Russell Kane is very much a different kettle of fish though. I swear tonight feels like it’s 100% off the cuff and it’s all the more brilliant for that fact. It’s obviously not off the cuff at all, but for someone to meander through as many topics, views and stories and still get back to the point time after time, all the while making the entire room laugh uproariously, is a real skill.
It’s not hard to work out why this is called the ‘Hyperactive’ tour. If you know Kane’s live work then you know his style; perpetual motion at what feels like 100 miles an hour. And anyone who just bought tickets for a good night out is left in no doubt as to the name when he bounds out and proceeds to just do circuits across the stage as he talks. Kane is a phenomenon; he never seems to stop and his delivery is incredible coming as it does on the run, during a dance, lying down or just crouching in front of us. Even taking a drink is done while wandering!
Whether there’s a plan or not, Kane’s material is superb tonight and I find myself wondering ‘Is this the funniest show I’ve ever seen?’ about halfway through. The answer is that I don’t know, but that’s the fault of my memory, not Russell Kane. Tonight is very definitely up there though.
In a way, Kane is hugely unprepared for tonight’s show as when he takes to the stage he’s only actually been in the building for 10 minutes or so. Apparently he was stuck in motorway traffic, which not only leads to a glorious bit about Slaithwaite – a place Kane discovers that the locals pronounce as more of a noise than an actual word; Slaawit – but lands him in quite an agitated mood. In turn, this adds even more to the energy of the show!
Quite a chunk of tonight is related to the audience. Kane ‘picks on’ the front row from the off and much fun is had at the expense of Yorkshire folk and their accents and attitudes. There’s nothing at all malicious in this and Russell judges the tone brilliantly so that the whole theatre is laughing as one. Even when he does a brief section about Geordies later on, I can’t take offence. It’s just very, very funny and stingingly accurate!
Kane says himself that he doesn’t tell jokes. In fact some of tonight seems dedicated to almost giving us a sermon about enjoying life, but it’s just hilarious at the same time. There are a good ten minutes spent on gently mocking ‘Gen Z’ as he asks questions of a 17 year old near the front and I find myself veering between wiping tears of laughter away and feeling dreadfully sorry for the lad!
Further down the line, there are riffs on his working class roots, his family, his wife and also the joys of living up north. All of it is priceless, hence the aching face and struggling lungs when I get home.
Only when Russell starts talking about limiting his show to 70 minutes, do I realise that we’re nearing the end. So relentless has he been that it feels like time has flown. Maybe somehow, with his dancing and speed walking around the stage he’s managed to find a way to speed up time? He admits to being worn out and I think every last person in the room feels exactly the same. But we’re all smiling.
Kane leaves the stage to rapturous and well deserved applause and much acclaim. There’s no chance of an encore, but nobody seems to care. This has been a wonderful night spent in the company of someone who appears to be a wonderful human being. And boy, is he funny!
If you get the chance to catch any of the rest of the tour, then jump on it. If not, start preparing yourself for next time!
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Russell Kane; perhaps the funniest stand up in Britain.
Wednesday, middle of the week and two stupidly busy people have taken the bold decision to go out. Not just to go out, but to go out having made a 45 minute journey down the M1 to Sheffield in order to do so. And on a school night as well! They don’t get out much either and when they do they tend to aim for a weekend, so being out on a school night had better be worth it! Over to you, Rich Hall.
Walking towards The Leadmill I’ve got the familiar pre-gig nerves. I won’t be on stage or anything, but I always get a bit nervous around big groups of people. Gigs make me additionally nervous because, despite my vintage, I’m still really self conscious. What if I fall over in a rush of people? What if everyone thinks my t-shirt’s shit? Rational types of fears, you know?
I’d forgotten about the calming effect of certain places though and as we pass through the front doors of The Leadmill and head towards the turnstile and the ridiculously slim door that takes you through, it all disappears.
Even though I’m a long time fan of Rich Hall, I’ve never actually seen him live. No idea why, but it’s certainly not a deliberate choice. Just one of those things, I guess. I know I could list bands that I love that I’ve just not gotten round to seeing too. Tonight, I don’t quite know what to expect. I know that Rich will come on and do a stand up set for the first hour or so and I also know that after a short break he’ll be back on with his Hoedown band. And, as someone who would gladly roll out every stereotype in the book if I was asked about country music, here’s where a bit of a problem lies.
The country music side of things almost swung the vote as to whether or not we’d come tonight. We had the tickets, but had an awful lot on in terms of work and personal stuff and to be honest, the thought of sitting through an hour of country and western music, nearly had me sat in an armchair in defiance 45 minutes north of Sheffield. (That’s defiance as in an emotion. Defiance is not a place 45 minutes north of Sheffield).
I’m now so, so glad we decided to come out instead of staying home.
Rich being Rich he ambles on stage, having given himself a fairly downbeat intro. Just the sight of him boosts my mood! From this point on it’s all set at an dawdling kind of pace and sometimes in a rambling kind of direction. But it’s fantastic.
Rich tells jokes and tales about all manner of subject matter. From Donald Trump, to budgeting and health care, right the way through to various places and accents in England that he’s well aware of. He’s clearly done his homework too as he opens with some observations about Sheffield taken from reading the local paper, The Star. It’s fair to say that this goes down brilliantly and from the moment he sets foot on stage, he’s got the audience on his side.
There are tales about the perplexing differences between Americans and British people and our non-linear way of thinking as well as combine harvesters and how they link to how a Tory MP might have mistakenly looked at porn in the House of Commons. There’s also a fantastic story about Rich’s trip to Buckingham Palace. And if you didn’t know, he’s also unearthed an improbable link between Morgan Freeman and the American actress Ashley Judd. Everything here is laugh out loud funny and all of it smattered with a liberal helping of curses.
By the time Rich has done about twenty minutes of stand up I’m sold on the idea of the hoedown. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? Maybe a 13 minute song about a dead pet, but I figure I can get through that.
There’s a fifteen minute break between Rich strolling off at the end of his stand up set and the Hoedown and then, on come the Hoedown band to start us off with a little bit of country riffing before Rich himself joins them.
I have to confess that Rich Hall’s Hoedown is a revelation to me. This is not a morose hour of dead pets and droughts (look, I was trying for some alliteration, alright? I have no idea if either of these things crops up in regular country an western). This is more comedy, but with a country twist. And it’s clever stuff too. Not only does Rich come up with a song about Sheffield, but there’s lots of audience participation where he’ll have a little chat with someone in the front row and then get a few things about their lives into a song, more or less on the spot.
Now, I’m not daft enough to realise that there’ll be song templates in use here, but I’m still left admiring the skills involved. And it’s still endlessly funny! Two sections stand out tonight and they both involve the audience. Firstly, there’s what we’ll call the Kieran Edge section where Rich asks a few questions of a lad in the front row – Kieran Edge, don’t you know – and then skillfully weaves him into the set, including a song that’s sort of about him and even a guest vocal slot for the man himself later on too. There’s also a section – and this has to have been off the cuff – where another bloke in the front row, named Sid, turns out to b a musician and is then invited to come up and play guitar for a song. And Sid does a cracking job, let me tell you, while Rich watches on from the side of stage clearly enjoying this twist, but slightly bemused all the same. I find myself tapping my foot, laughing along and ever-so-slightly wishing I too had a cowboy hat.
The evening ends with the interruption of a country song for a burst of Lynrd Skynrd and some gunfire courtesy of Kieran Edge again and some rednecks from the Hoedown Band’s brief tour of some southern states in America – you had to be there! It sums up the hilarity and sheer sense of good fun of the night though. Where else could you be included in a country song and then get asked to stand up and fire an imaginary pistol at the guitarist at a gig? Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Rich Hall’s Hoedown, coming to a venue – maybe – near you right up until September. I’d heartily recommend that you get out to see him as quick as you can!
As a post script to this review, I’d like to both show my support for The Leadmill and in my own small way, hopefully publicise their fight against closure. I’ve posted a link below that will tell you all about it as well as the relevant hashtag should you want to protest via social media.
From my own personal viewpoint The Leadmill and small venues like it simply cannot be allowed to close. They’re the thriving, beating heart of local entertainment and the places where many an act will find their feet, hone their craft and give some of the best performances that they’re ever going to give.
I live in Leeds, but me and my wife have been going to The Leadmill for years, seeing countless bands and comedians. I could bang on about the place for another few thousand words, but it’s easier just to tell you that it’s just a fantastic venue. There’s nothing flash about the place and it’s not some kind of enormodome where you might have the misfortune to squint from a distance at what you’re told is Ed Sheeran, having payed three figures for the privilege. The Leadmill is small and intimate, the people are welcoming and the atmosphere is always electric. Spit and sawdust spring to mind, but you’d never actually find any! From the turnstile to get in, the brilliant bar and of course the venue itself, it’s just perfect in it’s own special way. Everyone seems happy to be there.
On our most recent visit – the one you’ve read about above – we followed a couple of women down the street and into the venue. They were chatting about whether or not they were in the right attire for a comedy gig (I’m not sure what the right attire would be, unless you’re dressed like some kind of North Sea fisherman in order to save your clothes from the tears of laughter you’re exepcting) and as we got to the doors they came to the following conclusion.
“Aah, doesn’t matter really. Leadmill, innit?”
We don’t need a multitude of reasons to save The Leadmill. Let’s do it because… “Leadmill, innit?”
#WeCantLoseLeadmill
Please click the link below and sign the petition to save The Leadmill!
Middle Age Fanclub 