Review by Bruce Dessau

Every now and then a rumour circulates that the perma-scowling Andrew Lawrence is starting to mellow in order to get more TV exposure. There was not much sign of it in the comedy tent where he was as fiercely filthy as ever. While Frankie Boyle channels his misanthropy into non-PC one-liners, Lawrence has a distinctly different approach, telling fairly reasonable stories and then piling vitriolic adjective upon vitriolic adjective in one bleak, breathless, abusive punchline.

It’s a trick he uses repeatedly, but it works every time, whether putting the boot into Australia, inspired by a miserable trip to the Melbourne Comedy Festival, or recalling the vile bile he imagines dishing out to a traffic cop who stopped him for dodgy driving. These are hugely powerful pay-offs, not just witty but also expertly delivered, or rather expertly spewed out.

Of course, there is no point speaking fast if you haven’t got plenty to say and Lawrence certainly has. Some might not like his dark, self-loathing worldview, but it certainly lends his set a consistent tone.

Yet maybe he is mellowing slightly. I’ve never seen Lawrence get an entire audience to join him in singing the title music from a popular Seventies comedy before, and pulling this off at Latitude was a masterstroke. It might have been a trick of the light, but I was sure I could see a smile flicker across his wispy-bearded face as the Benny Hill theme echoed across the Suffolk fields…

Review date: 25 Jul 2010
Reviewed by: Bruce Dessau