Underpinning Kevin Bridges’ latest stand-up show are concerns about mental health and the toxicity of social media – big, contemporary issues in the world and understandably widespread in comedy.
But he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. Where some comedians might put these capital-I issues front and centre and make a big play of the fact, here they only subtly inform his personal stories. Maybe that comes from Bridges’ residual reluctance to open up about such topics as a working-class guy from Clydebank, but the stealth and lack of gravitas is hugely effective – boosting the laughs rather than pausing them to give an overtly sincere message.
Bridges’ starting point here is lockdown, which drove everyone a little bit nuts. And while you’d be forgiven for not wanting to hear another word about the pandemic, his material feels fresh and punchy even as the reference points, from Joe Wicks to family quizzes, are familiar. His skill as one of the most naturally funny stand-ups of his generation is in putting a distinctive spin on universal experiences – and there’s no experience more universal than lockdown. Unless you worked and partied in Downing Street, of course.
His gnawing insecurities were exacerbated by Covid, and he likens the voices in his head to having a computer virus generating intrusive – but irrelevant - pop-ups. To combat such unwelcome distractions Bridges is trying to better himself in a fight against that most stubborn of enemies: human nature. He’s taken up jogging after being shocked at his weight, and has shunned social media – which he considers a rigged gamble on your happiness – even though that leaves him nowhere to boast of his couch-to-5k progress.
Professionally, he brilliantly describes Twitter as the VAR of comedy, deciding in retrospect whether a joke that got a laugh in the room should be allowed. He fell foul of it only last month when his mentioning the Queen’s death an hour after the news broke was pounced upon by the determined offence-seekers.
No one could reasonably accuse Bridges of being an edgelord – unless you really have an intolerance for swearing – as he’s honest, inclusive and playful, cutting through nonsense to describe his world as he sees it.
It’s a world that now encompasses married life, fatherhood and the twin realisation that he’s now both middle class, and, at 35, moving up on middle age. Both provide plenty of material, including an astute take on the culture war from a man who can see both sides from his position astride the generational divide. And from a man who’s all-too aware of how Eminem’s ‘fuck you’ energy was compelling at 25, but rather sadder at 50.
As we’ve come to expect from Bridges the material is all very authentic and unabashed – especially when talking about his piles. He puts himself forward as a ‘rectal health’ advocate, and it’s hard to disagree – which admiring another witty turn of phrase, casually delivered in unpretentious conversation.
That style invites more audience interjections than most big-theatre stand-up shows, but Bridges – always in command of the stage – rolls with them brilliantly, adding to the free-flowing feel of the night. Only an awkward encore when he comes back out with no material derails that vibe.
While Overdue Catch Up is all about him growing as a person, we should also acknowledge how he’s growing as a comedian, taking on bigger issues without losing sight of the funny that defines his every anecdote.
