Another midweek comedy slot at The Cavendish Arms, and another stand up performance from my laugh-a-minute mate @comedybeard. Mr Beard is becoming something of a residency at the Sunny Stockwell boozer, although technically I don’t think he still qualifies for the Comedy Virgin tag (or even virgin, for that matter.)
It takes a lot to get me away from the wine cellar on a midweek evening. Tuesday night isn’t the most kicking of nights around SW8, depending what constitutes a good kicking of course. But blimey – the Cav Arms along Hartington Road pulled in a crowd that must have competed in size with the queues at the nearby Costcutter (local heads up: that’s a rather large queue.)
The booking policy of an open mic – as long as you bring along a friend – fits the splendid ballroom style venue (seriously) perfectly. As previous, a lottery running order delivers each virgin to the stage for his or her five minutes of fun.
No one is going to die on stage (omits obvious Stockwell joke) with the crowd on the right side of polite for any unforgiving acts. I wasn’t alone in wanting to shout down the homophobe with his side-splitting tales of campness in the army (think Bruno without the irony.) But with only five minutes of the moronic lines to suffer, I sat on my hands and gave a slow handclap, once the fool had finished.
@comedybeard was drawn on to the stage at an early hour. He built his performance up with another powerful showing, feeling his way around the audience and deciding which direction to take the act. I’m no observer of observational comedians, but it seems to be a balancing act between material and confidence. Mr Beard has come a long way in a short space of time, and he left the stage with his head held high.
Some of the other acts were of an extremely high standard. Word perfect, and paced perfectly for the five-minute time slot. The monologue about drying wet washing whilst out sleep walking with tennis playing prostitutes and owls certainly got my hands out from under my arse.
Next stop for @comedybeard is Edinburgh and the Fringe (um, round about now as I type.) I hope his Stockwell residency has served Mr Beard well for the seriously funny action up at the festival with the big boys.
Comedy Virgins could do a lot worse than a de-flowering at The Cavendish Arms every Tuesday night in Sunny Stockwell. Bring your own friends, but please forget the homophobe humour.