Frank Skinner: Man In A Suit
Last week, I took advantage of the post-Christmas sales and picked up Frank Skinner's latest show on DVD, Man In A Suit.
There's a pleasingly timeless feel about the show, save for an obligatory reference to Operation Yewtree and a nod to Lady Gaga. Skinner excels at universal truths and the 57 year old is reliably entertaining on the subjects of ageing and relationships. In between, there's surreal skits about Robin Hood and King Arthur, in addition to the best joke about eating a Toblerone you're ever likely to hear.
Filmed in the intimate environs of the Leicester Square Theatre, Skinner demonstrates his complete control of the audience, riffing superbly on an early heckle. When the audience cheer his revelation of sobriety, his admonishing response is in gloriously poor taste. He may have left his laddish image of the 1990s behind but one of the main joys here is watching him wander the line between eloquence and filth. A joke referencing Skinner's early stand up career, Harry Belafonte and Japanese poetry proves the highlight of the show. Equally joyous are two anecdotes on oral sex (giving and receiving, in the interests of balance of course).
Skinner's cheeky "every man" persona as always carries him a long way. The show's title comes from a routine about an extensive suit collection acquired through years of presenting TV shows, observing that were he to donate them to charity, his hubris in doing so may save more lives. On the other end of the scale, it's difficult to think of another performer who would get away with describing all stand up comedy fans as either "idiots" or "cunts". But as he points out, he continues to maintain an appeal to both.
Not all the material hits home in the loosely structured 80 minute set. A gag about Princess Diana and Camilla feels particularly creaky although does lead into a decent Prince Charles routine. A recurring device involving haikus produces diminishing returns and a recollection from a gig involving an amputee punter proves more awkward than amusing.
Some rustiness is to be expected though. As Skinner observes, this is his first stand up tour in seven years. Fingers crossed we won't have to wait another seven for a return from one of the masters of the craft.
There's a pleasingly timeless feel about the show, save for an obligatory reference to Operation Yewtree and a nod to Lady Gaga. Skinner excels at universal truths and the 57 year old is reliably entertaining on the subjects of ageing and relationships. In between, there's surreal skits about Robin Hood and King Arthur, in addition to the best joke about eating a Toblerone you're ever likely to hear.
Filmed in the intimate environs of the Leicester Square Theatre, Skinner demonstrates his complete control of the audience, riffing superbly on an early heckle. When the audience cheer his revelation of sobriety, his admonishing response is in gloriously poor taste. He may have left his laddish image of the 1990s behind but one of the main joys here is watching him wander the line between eloquence and filth. A joke referencing Skinner's early stand up career, Harry Belafonte and Japanese poetry proves the highlight of the show. Equally joyous are two anecdotes on oral sex (giving and receiving, in the interests of balance of course).
Skinner's cheeky "every man" persona as always carries him a long way. The show's title comes from a routine about an extensive suit collection acquired through years of presenting TV shows, observing that were he to donate them to charity, his hubris in doing so may save more lives. On the other end of the scale, it's difficult to think of another performer who would get away with describing all stand up comedy fans as either "idiots" or "cunts". But as he points out, he continues to maintain an appeal to both.
Not all the material hits home in the loosely structured 80 minute set. A gag about Princess Diana and Camilla feels particularly creaky although does lead into a decent Prince Charles routine. A recurring device involving haikus produces diminishing returns and a recollection from a gig involving an amputee punter proves more awkward than amusing.
Some rustiness is to be expected though. As Skinner observes, this is his first stand up tour in seven years. Fingers crossed we won't have to wait another seven for a return from one of the masters of the craft.
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