Alex Zane and Rob Beckett at the Royal Albert Hall Elgar Rooms

 

This particular gig was the last in three high-profile comedy nights and though they may not be the main hall, the Elgar Rooms offer enough of a regal veneer to give the comedy night a sense of glamour, which was supplemented by the table service on offer for pre-ordered food.

 

Rob Beckett was first onstage and engaged in an extended section of opening banter which, though enjoyable enough never really went very far before launching into his material.  Though Beckett has some way to go before he can consider himself a truly polished act, he managed to conjure up a good mix of affable personality and witty one-liners, giving out sagely advice never to eat anything larger than ones own head and how to spot a pet which had left home to live in Woolwich.

 

Overall Beckett’s set was enough to glimpse at what he is capable of, but wouldn’t have been enough to imprint his name on the collective audience as one to watch. Many of the jokes fell short due party to the fact that it felt that most people had come to see the main act, Alex Zane.

 

Zane is well aware that not everyone is a fan of his Russell Brand-esque persona, even his own mother describes him as a ‘marmite person’. Though animated enough, there wasn't much in the way of biting comedy as Zane rifled through parts of his previous Edinburgh material, his set only really came alive when a forceful heckler bellowed out angrily that he stop talking about David Cameron. 

 

It was when he was forced to go off-script that Zane came alive, playing on his vulnerability in the face of a perceived threat from the side of the room to string together an extended improvised put-down.

 

As a set I enjoyed what Zane has to offer, but I think this was slightly voyeuristic reasons. Part of him revels so much in playing the ‘I’m a celebrity’ role on stage it gave me ample time to ponder the vacuousness of celebrity culture.

 

Admitting that he watches comments written about him on Twitter, it was easy to imagine Zane sitting at home with a bag of popcorn reading with glee the latest reaction to his TV antics.

 

In short, though his set was not without its merits, it was simply too self-indulgent. This may sound overly harsh, as hidden within the hour and fifteen minutes of waffle is some good comedy, but not enough to sustain the momentum which that kind of time affords.

 

A BBC radio DJ described the Royal Wedding as something he ‘watched purely anthropological reasons’. The same could be said for Zane, while it was a worthwhile evening in which most people left amused, it still felt like a spectacle in which the main draw was on stage simply to be seen, in that kind of environment comedy is the only real loser. 

 

Tim Clark