Gentle comedy for a violent downpour
Poet/singer/comedian Rory Motion’s set was ideal for a drowsy Glastonbury crowd, too stoned or covered in mud to take anything too hectic.
There were jokes-a-plenty about trees and weed. The term “ethical banking” was amusingly imagined as donkeys carrying bank safes up and down the country, and Rory described how he once gave a stressed out pigeon spiritual healing by feeling for its Chakras.
Motion’s comedy is gentle, and mostly simmers along quite nicely. But it does eventually boil, in this case with a brilliant play on “Albert and the Lion”, changed to “Albert and the Rave”. This children’s poem about a dissatisfied little boy was transformed into a piece about someone who finds Glastonbury a bore. Another of his poems centred around Osama Bin Laden living in his back garden and mowing the lawn, which was also a pleasingly idiotic image.
Some moments were less entertaining. Rory singing a Dylan song with a Welsh twang was such a moment, as was his dull jibe about how he had never written a poem about Prince Phillip because nothing rhymes with pointless.
But overall, a perfect mid-afternoon half hour, and enough to help anyone forget it was raining outside.
Holly Falconer