Grand Opera House, York
Sunday, 18th May 2025
New Bits & Greatest Hits
Despite having a love of comedy, especially the type of humour that can fly off in random and strange directions, I had always found that Harry Hill seemed to try too hard while on TV, was painfully unfunny and always left me cold. Then, a couple of years ago a friend persuaded me to go see him live, on stage, assuring me that I’d enjoy it. And short of him physically twisting my arm up my back, a lot, and I do mean A LOT of urging was required to make me go and see him. Sat there, almost determined not to have my hard formed opinions altered, my face was a picture of stoicism. But then, not long into the show, something happened. I had a road to Damascus moment and something clicked. The insane wackiness was not him reinventing anything, he was just taking a silly walk further along the path that had been started by such legends as The Crazy Gang, The Goons, Monty Python, The Goodies and the Fast Show. A path now seldom walked for fear of the cancel culture and woke censorship. Each generation of mad men trying to ensure that comedy is more relevant and irreverent than what had gone before. It was that revelation that allowed to metamorphosis the grin to a smile, and then a laugh that would not stop.
Having recruited a new acolyte I saw that he was touring again this year and this time there was no reluctance to get tickets as I knew what to expect, or in Harry’s case, what not to expect. From the moment he appeared on stage making fun of Morrisey, care of a talking wig, I was washed over with a tsunami of strange, surreal and bizarre comedy. But like many of the best comedians, that I have seen live, much of the show was so fast and compacted that many of the jokes could not be fitted into my memory, however there are a few moments that have adhered to my brain cells and make me glad that my mind is on the same frequency as his.
Never has a leaf blower and ironing board been taken to such a comedic level. A blue glove puppet cat has seldom been so gross, or a ventriloquist dummy utilised a string of sausages in such an obvious yet over the top way.
He was far from politically correct, which is fine by me, and virtually all the audience seemed to know what to expect with the tickets being costly enough to ensure that people had to be determined to be entertained if they were there. However I did notice one member of the audience who had decided to stand at the side of the stalls with arms folded and a face full of righteous indignation. She might have been laughing on the inside but, to an outsider, she gave the impression that she outraged and was mentally composing an letter of complaint to the Guardian. Maybe she had thought she was seeing a stage adaption of the film Notting Hill? Which only added to my pleasure of the night.
The insane evening was not just confined to the stage, with the audience gleefully becoming part of the act. He had two people mock fighting and another person come on stage to play ‘Inter species Swingball’ against a glove puppet Hamster called Abu (The puppet won). And if that was not enough for the willing victim he even ended up in a hamster costume. But as a reward Harry gave him some gifts, including a Michael McIntyre DVD which the guy swiftly threw away, to the side of the stage. An unscripted act that had the audience in fits of laughter and made him an instant hero.
There were a few brief instances where Harry fluffed his lines and corpsed but those times added to the fun. After all, who doesn’t like the unexpected, especially if the main character is not expecting it?
Then, at the end of the show, the audience got to have fun with a giant inflatable sausage, which is not something that can be said about most concerts!
The show was in two parts and, as he announced the interval, I had to check my watch as time had flown so fast that I thought only 10 minutes had passed instead of 50. The same happened for the second half and, as I walked back to the car with my friend, we just quoted random words from the show which solicited wild laughter from the other. If anyone had heard us saying “Prosecco” and chortling like loons they’d have thought we were drunk or insane.
If you are already a fan then you have probably seen him on stage and can identify with what I had been part of. But if, like I used to be, you are cold to him then all I can say is give him a try. He might just lift an Sunday evening from the mundane to the surreally magnificent. And even if he doesn’t then you can always send a letter to the Guardian.
[Recording and/or the taking of photos during the performance was frowned upon, so we duly obliged… although the ‘sneaky sausage photo’ might reveal that this message didn’t quite register with all 😉 …
CAST
Harry Hill
Gary – The Ventriloquist Dummy
Abu Hameter
Stouffer The Cat
A Parade Of Badgers