Tony Law is a whirlwind on stage. Boiled down to its essence, the comedian’s latest show is one long, charismatic growl. It sweeps you up in its infectiously free-form wake, even when it seems as though the content has been left trailing behind.
Twinkly-eyed and bouncing on to the stage in a sheer onesie with shreds of cloth dangling from his arms, Law delivers a set with carnivalesque energy from the start. Muttering into his mic while consulting a notebook, he’s daring us to treat him as a joke.
And he does this well, eyebrow permanently half-raised at himself as he freewheels with accomplished eccentricity through funny anecdotes that flare in and out of focus. He quickly makes friends of us with this confidently ramshackle performance.
Law has a way of spinning a story until it sparkles. Whether happily addressing audience members as friends from the Trojan War or describing his reaction to the death of a family pet, he’s hilarious. And a game of catch with a beachball gets funnier the longer it lasts.
It’s lucky that Law’s so wittily likeable, because it papers over several occasions when we’re basically left to finish the punchlines. It’s one thing to poke fun at your format, but—charming self-deprecation aside—his material sometimes floats entirely out sight.
Law owns the stage and his unaffected absurdity is a joy to behold – he’s a great companion for an hour. The only thing that this show sometimes lacks is the substance to back up the beach-ball buoyancy of his wit.