PERFORMANCE & COMEDY

Colston Hall, Bristol (Sat 12 Nov)

COMEDY It’s another coffer-swelling night of sold out stand-up at the Colston Hall tonight, as fuzz-faced Dave Gorman – Googlewhack adventurist, hotel explorer and dedicated namesake collector – brings his internet excavating hit show to Bristol, floor-to-ceiling projection screen, trademark checked shirt and all.

Point and click visual weaponry mightn’t be a new comedy concept these days, but Gorman got their first and still, as tonight’s expertly-juggled shift proves, remains one of its best exponents.

Before all that though, we get an almost full set from the inoffensively mild-mannered Jay Foreman who strums out a string of ponderings on acoustic guitar about John Lennon (better off dead, apparently), stealing food (it’s fun isn’t it? Isn’t it?) and an insanely catchy ear-worm about dispatching the world’s chavs to the moon. His songwriting’s pleasing enough, but – especially as he doesn’t seem to have written any new material for about three years (and we really should have moved on from the royal wedding by now) – only his schizophrenic tirade about his dichotomous public/private life hits home (he’s polite to your face, but back home “I sit on the floor and pretend I’m dying/Then masturbate over my own reflection crying”).

Good job Dave’s firm hand is here to guide us to safer comic territory. A self-confessed “internet addict”, Gorman – exacerbated, perplexed, inquisitive – has scoured the depths of the web to hit us with a volley of sight gags, ready-prepped punchlines and idiotic message board wittering. Click, click, click. Did you know Gorman (a staunch atheist) is considered one of the world’s 25 most influential literary Jews? He’s got the evidence to prove it. He’s also got a bunch of supposed Gorman lookalikes suggested by fans (they look nothing like him), Tweets exchanged during an overegged “spat” with Jim Davidson, graphs measuring his body weight vs attractiveness and evidence of his ongoing investigation into the fake advertising stooges used to sell mobile phones.

Occasionally, its feels as if the presentation’s merely papering over some fairly mediocre material (including a section about foods that make your urine smell) but then two beautifully delivered found poems comprising the juiciest quotes sourced from enraged online commentators (“Jerry Seinfeld? I’ve never heard of him. And I don’t intend to!”) remind us we’re witnessing a dedicated master at work. (Joe Spurgeon)

Copyright Joe Spurgeon 2011