Melbourne International Comedy Festival review by Steve Bennett

Kevin Bridges was feeling pretty smug about selling out his Melbourne run... until he realised his venue held just 250 people. That would still be an achievement for many, but in his native Glasgow he can fill arenas many times over.

There are a good many expats in the audience tonight to see him in more intimate surroundings – although it’s impressive that a straw polls reveals native Aussies are in the majority. But the up-close-and-personal gig also gives Bridges a problem he wouldn’t encounter in front of thousands: an awkward front-row customer that noticeably threw him off his game.

Sean wasn’t especially disruptive, though he did give elliptical answers to a couple of questions from the stage, but he must have been giving Bridges a particularly surly, offputting stare, given the number of times the comic returned to addressing this particular ‘joy Hoover’, even though little good ever came of it.

Such distractions notwithstanding, Bridges delivered as accomplished an hour of stand-up, as you’d expect given his success. He’s a natural comedian: self-effacing, perpetually mocking others, and taking nothing too seriously – but calling bullshit when he sees it.

He’s an everyman who doesn’t pretend to be something he’s not, and that includes not tempering his accent to the Australian ear, even though he clearly could do, as he demonstrates hidden talents for a tone-perfect posh English voice and more-than-passable Strine during the course of this fast-flowing set

Easing into things with a little easy and generic bit about airport security, Bridges flashes a bit of edge and cheek when he makes reference to the missing Malaysian jet. There’s no punchline to it, really, but a good marker for the tone of the show that even the serious shouldn’t be taken seriously. The engaging cackle he emits at some of his own jokes further emphasises the fact that this is slightly naughty fun.

Big topics such as global financial meltdown, sectarianism and Scottish independence are all reduced to fodder for silly jokes. On this year’s referendum, on which so many of his high-profile countrymen are sitting on the fence, Bridges concludes he wants to vote: ‘Fuck it, it’ll be a laugh’ – just as long as he can change his mind four years later if the Scots trash the place.

Sweeping from big issues to small, vacuous R&B lyrics, preposterous porn titles and sport all get a ribbing too, with laughs amplified by the 27-year-olds’ smart use of language, part Glaswegian patter and florid swearing, part his own creativity in finding just the right description. Yet for all the preciseness of the writing, it’s delivered with a deceptively casual, conversational air.

Whether this is a first strike at attempting to crack Australia, or simply a busman’s holiday, Bridges again proves himself a playful, affable and no-nonsense comedian you can depend upon for a good time.

Review date: 10 Apr 2014
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett