Henry Paker: Classic Paker

Contentedness is rarely conducive to cutting-edge comedy. The amiable Henry Paker stumbled across it recently, getting engaged and now co-habiting, which forms the crux of his third solo Edinburgh show. There’s a promising routine early on about the role of box-sets in modern relationships, and a cracking gag about the word fiancé, but otherwise this happy state of affairs—oh, if there were only affairs—appears to have disastrously dulled his creativity.  

Paker's previous hours have revelled in his relationship woes, sparking off delirious flights of fancy that dovetailed perfectly with his overall air of quirky bewilderment. Those flights have now vanished into the Edinburgh ether, with a more straightforward, surrealism-free character emerging in their wake. It isn't a character at all, in truth, just a regular chap rambling on about his domestic arrangements: shopping, cooking, the cat. Sporadic spots of invention do pepper the set, and his audience interaction remains pleasingly potent, but Classic Paker is anything but. The second half is often surprisingly dull.

Perhaps the muse really has moved on, but you cannot help but wonder whether the word 'career' has loomed large in recent months, given the imminent troth plighting. Paker's one problem—apart from a general lack of recognition—was always his jarring echoes of more established comics, but at least they tended to be inspirational ones. This show reeks of a man trying to trudge down the over-trodden observational path to wider success, while neglecting his own undeniable talents. A classic error.