Rob Rouse: The Great Escape

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Rob Rouse likes meat. Quit a lot, actually. His wife, by contrast doesn't. One has here the basis of this year's show and, to be honest, the first half of it goes a lot like that sounds. The differences between meat eaters and vegetarians—between manly, but frequently foolhardy carnivores and dainty, though often sage, veggies—make for amusing but predictably pedestrian comedy. In less accomplished hands, that's how The Great Escape might continue for 60 minutes – perfectly jolly, but fairly uninspiring.

But in less accomplished hands, this wouldn't be delivered with the confidence of a storyteller who knows this is only the beginning; less accomplished hands wouldn't take the time to set up and vividly characterise a number of key dramatis personae; less accomplished hands might also not conjure such a poetic description of pooh but that is, perhaps, less relevant.

What's extremely relevant, though, is what Rouse does with this steady beginning. For Rouse's consummate skill lies in his ability to write tightly structured shows which build, and build, and build, to a hilarious crescendo. Where most comedians can write routines which accomplish this with a degree of success, Rouse stretches the form to its logical conclusion in a carefully weighted hour of comedic storytelling. Sure, that means there's a chunk of this show which moves at a fairly workaday pace but the payoff, though delayed, is remarkable. Leave this show, exhilarated, and never look at roadkill in the same way again.