Joe Lycett employs his intense, cheeky affability the same way a stealth bomber uses anti-radar technology. His appealing, natural likeability allows him to recount some fairly grim scenarios, revealing surprisingly graphic truths about the people described, without ever seeming exploitative or cruel. Whether this makes Lycett unexpectedly dark or unexpectedly lovable is up to the audience to decide, but he remains fiercely amusing either way.
Lycett has an enviable ability to hop back and forth from the silliest of material (the friend who always dried her clothes in the microwave, and permanently smells of baked beans as a result) and brash, happy revelations of a more personal nature. He discusses his own sexuality at great and entirely justified length, at every point hilariously compelling, and easily turns some of the less enlightened reactions he has experienced into excellent material. A standup can always get polite applause for mocking bigotry at the Fringe; achieving the uproarious laughter that Lycett does is an entirely different matter.
Despite this semi-central focus, credit should also be given to Lycett's impressive range, both in style and subject matter. There are jokes relating to the sexual, the social, the political and the abstract, while the manner of their telling varies from anecdotal to surreal, derisory, camp, parodic and polemical. Everyone will have an individual favourite, but there is no area where Lycett truly fails. While he might seek to pick up the pace at times, Lycett's comedy should still win many converts.