Jason Byrne is Propped Up

Hard to believe, I know, but reviewers do actually enjoy a laugh. And for easy, joyous laughs, there ought to be few Friday nights more enjoyable than in the company of Jason Byrne. In part, that's exactly what happens tonight. Byrne's ability to create chaos out of nothing, to whip an audience into frenzied giggles, to divine exactly what his willing participants are likely to do next, ekeing every scrap of silliness from their quirks, is a treat to watch. Dammit, the man can even deliver pitch-perfect, funny routines about the weather.

But somewhere in the planning of tonight's show, Byrne has decided that his central joke, the observation around which his show climaxes, is that "Gwyneth Paltrow is a miserable bitch". Literally, he says that – over and over again. And as it becomes more and more obvious that this is less a throwaway remark than a central conceit, so does the show become more and more distasteful. Here's a man whose honed technique could make anything sound funny. He's chosen to coax families into laughing along to misogyny.

One of the joys of watching Byrne is that he has the ability to conjure absolute, easy escapism. But just because he doesn't need his audience to think hard, doesn't mean he's excused from doing so. But, hey, I'm not his mother. He can do what he wants. There are few performers who can grab an audience by the wrists and lead them up and down the garden path in such spectacular fashion. It's entirely up to Byrne where he wants to lead them.