Review by Steve Bennett

New York-based Todd Barry comes across as a sneery, self-obsessed and slightly unpleasant man ­ but thankfully he knows how to harness those qualities into some assured stand-up.

Not that things get off to the greatest of starts, as he bemoans the lack of audience (which wasn't even that bad; and even if it was, why grumble to the people who DID come out?), then pulls out his previous reviews from obscure newspapers to deride the way they were written. As he hadn't yet established any comic credibility, this was little more than arrogant self-indulgence.

He's not the easiest of comics to warm to anyway, thanks to his quiet but whiney voice and an on-stage aloofness bordering on frigidity. Placid, one of those quoted critics called it, but that's one step from soporific.

Once he lets his material do the talking, however, things pick up considerably. His approach is observational but subversive, frequently twisting into original, offbeat territory. Barry is a hugely sarcastic comic, too, dryly dismssing the objects of his scorn to escalating effect.

He serves up each routine as if it were a cordon bleu dish, slowly revealing it to get the audience salivating in anticipation, then leaving plenty of time before the next treat arrives, ensuring its savoured and appreciated all the more. Those vast gaps are filled with trivial audience banter, as if to cleanse the palate.

And then, slowly and deliberately, he milks each joke for every last drop of comic potential, even if that sometimes means pushing beyond the point of funny.

The laconic approach is perfectly suited to the late-night slot, at least for audiences looking for a bedtime treat rather than a rowdy party, and there's plenty to satisfy, even if it is thinly spread.

Review date: 1 Jan 2004
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett