Culture Writer Atshiga Bonvin reviews Rhys James’ newest show ‘Spilt Milk’, praising Rhys James’ confidence and brazen style.
‘What a mess of a show.’ ‘I’m never doing this sh*t again.’
Two lines from Rhys James which sums up the hilarious night that was his Birmingham show. The 32-year-old comedian who is primarily known for his appearances on Mock the Week and his uncanny likeness to fellow comedian Ed Gamble, performed for his Spilt Milk tour at the historic Old Rep theatre on the 12th of October, and was received very well by the audience.
His opening act was Steve Bugeja, a comedian most known for his ITV sitcom Buffering. He jokes about going for an eye test purely for the confidence boost, which unfortunately with my minus five prescription, I could not relate to. In his words, I am a ‘half blind weeb’. Bugeja’s material was incredibly varied, from a ‘mature’ rebranding of toilet humour to exploring the hilarious ‘icks’ that men give women. He describes the experience of Japanese toilets as ‘getting fingered by Aquaman’ and the strange presence of WW2 national campaigns within British culture. The audience both groaned and cackled at his jokes, the demographic for Rhys James perhaps not translating entirely to Bugeja’s material. The most interesting part however was the comedian/audience discourse. Although observational comedy and audience interaction has always been a part of many stand-up comedians’ routines, the way it occurred at this gig was hilariously unique.
The first heckle of the night comes from the infamous Dan (who wasn’t the only Dan who joined us that night, lucky us), calling out into the silence as soon as train simulation was mentioned. After exchanges of witty banter between him and Bugeja, Dan was picked on as the night continued.
A clownish tune plays, bright colours circle the stage, and like an incredibly awkward jester with the pallor of an ‘ill Victorian child’ as he says, out comes Rhys James
A clownish tune plays, bright colours circle the stage, and like an incredibly awkward jester with the pallor of an ‘ill Victorian child’ as he says, out comes Rhys James. He begins the show by expressing his anger towards the richer, more famous footballer of the same name, and how he is spurred by jealousy for his superior clone creating a hilarious start to the gig. The first fifteen minutes of the show, however, were difficult, the crowd taking their time to warm up. Slating Coventry really didn’t help. Rather than being made nervous by the crowd, James started insulting them. He has an incredibly intelligent way of dealing with hecklers that I believe more comedians should learn from; cussing them off and telling them ‘you have to shut up’. His confidence and experience are evident, unbothered by the occasional dulling of laughter and instead cursing the audience. This worked in his favour; the Birmingham crowd, including myself, found being sworn at to be hilarious.
James continues Steve Bugeja’s interactions with the crowd. It was as if the audience was filled with livestock, with very interesting animalistic cackles that shone through over the background of laughter. Dan 1 was mocked for his profession as a ‘garage door man,’ to the audience’s delight. The star of the show, however, was not only the comedian the spotlight shined upon, but Dan 2, who’s pig-like squeals dominated James’ mind as he strove to hear his hilarious laugh. The squeal was a sign of a successful joke, or as he put it, ‘market research.’ I found myself laughing at James’ lines, and then cackling even more as the squeal emerged, soon joined by a walrus laugh.
It was as if the audience was filled with livestock, with very interesting animalistic cackles that shone through over the background of laughter
His mentions of ‘Mock the Week’ garnered even more laughter from the audience, James being self-aware of the fame this show has given him. As an ode to the round ‘Scenes we’d like to see,’ clips from which appear regularly on James’ social media, he includes many one-liners throughout the show. A personal favourite was about the 60+ Railcard; ‘the railcard that never expires, but you do.’ Bleak, perhaps, his material danced on the borders of dark humour, but it was well received by the audience. Either way, he did make it clear; ‘I’m serious, no refunds.’
James self-proclaims his material is universal; ‘I accommodate for everyone, I’ve got range.’ He is not wrong. The crowd was varied, he does not have an age specific demographic. James’ material on Gen Z I found particularly funny. Not only did he mention our incredibly short attention spans, or our ingrained ambition to reach peak success at the age of twenty, but he also stated that we don’t know who we are. I was being called out. According to him, we are delusional, with sludge for brains. A fair analysis of our generation, I think.
I left the show elated, remembering to brutally destroy the competition instead of chasing the dream, and that Rhys James is indeed ‘better than Hemingway.’
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