Review by Steve Bennett

Stand-up doesn't really cover what Wil Hodgson does; this is more evocative storytelling that might, occasionally, elicit a laugh, but that's not its primary intention.

He dispatches the straightforward comedy within ten minutes, briskly setting up his contradictory character as a pink-mohicaned ex-wrestling Care Bear aficionado from Chippenham with a rabid hatred of the hateful racism and feral loutism endemic in his ­ and indeed almost everyone else's ­ small English town.

From this, he finds himself aligned with the extremist feminist organisation Scum, which believes all men should be killed as they are inherently destructive to society. His routines are less likely to start, 'there's three fellas walk into a pub' than 'there are these three feminists in a anarchist book fair'. Not that he's an anarchist, he's quick to point out, he just likes the atmosphere.

This, though, is merely humorous preamble for the meat of his hour, a tale from the playground when he was leader of the band of school misfits and weirdos known as the Red Team. Specifically, it's about his experiences with the most dangerously unhinged of the bunch, who went by the name of Rob Noxious, lived his life by Mr T's code of conduct and cut a menacing figure, having once shot someone with an air rifle.

He cuts a domineering, intimidating presence, prone to snapping and hell-bent on retribution against the teachers who he believes wronged him, during a last-day-of-school bloodbath.

In Hodgson's hands, this comes across like a West Country Godfather film, with a persuasive but unpalatable antihero, epic themes and increasing tension. He creates a claustrophobic, sinister atmosphere, especially when he tells of his more chilling encounters with the adult Noxious.

There are few laughs, but with his monotone drone and vacant, staring eyes Hodgson will absorb you into this compelling, and ultimately redemptive, yarn.

Reviewed by: Steve Bennett

Review date: 1 Jan 2006
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett