Review by Steve Bennett

Dave Gibson feels a little bit more like a holiday-camp host than a post-alternative comic. Cheery, friendly and upbeat, he does a lot of TV warm-up work, and he’s certainly got the jaunty banter down to pat. But move away from the compere-like chats with the audience, and the material isn’t much better than joke-book fare. Take the psychic who went from a size 20 to a size 12… now she’s a medium! Ouch.

As if to tacitly acknowledge the often poor quality of the gags, he ironically over-sells them, gaining laughs from his sheer chutzpah with such ropey material.

His most notable feature is his moustache: the facial furniture of an Edwardian gentleman thief, which he has presumably grown to give him a talking point in his set. But nurturing a wacky tash only to provide fodder for the act seems disingenuous at best, desperate at worst.

Gibson is easily distracted, often deviating from his material to engage in conversation. It’s playing to his strength, but while the chat is assured and amiable, it’s thin on belly-laughs, which only reinforces the feeling that the likeable Gibson is an adroit MC, but a lightweight act.

Review date: 2 Mar 2009
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett