Rhod Gilbert’s sidekick (and tenant it turns out), Lloyd Langford finds he is quickly nudging down his audience’s expectations. First off the reliable stand up is not going to take us through a particularly eventful day in his life, one where he was dumped, found out his mum was ill and was made homeless. We should probably be grateful for that. He offers instead an insight into an ordinary day, and with a map of where he lives behind him (South Ealing station is marked, but then so is ‘Janet Porter Street’ and ‘Kirsty Walk’) suggesting the possible progression of that day.
As a keen-eared member of the audience then points out, Lloyd hasn’t ‘left his house’ in over fifteen minutes of material, so the Welshman revises his time frame again, to something that, like his own persona, is more pedestrian. Among the things that delay Langford and keep him housebound are riffs on his fascination with the vast array of bread that is on offer to us in supermarkets. When he does leave the house, it’s dog faeces that next arrest his attention, and he proceeds to regale us with the mores of poop scooping. Well, he’s already talked about various face-eating news stories, so this is mild by comparison.
Despite the lurid nature of some routines, this is a harmless, engaging hour that keeps his audience tickled. However, the devaluation of the premise is just a wee bit annoying, and the consequent pointlessness of it reflects badly on the strengths of his own individual routines.