Fred Cooke: Comfort In Chaos
Live Review

Fred Cooke has a good comic look: a strapping, manic baby, with something of Mrs Doyle’s beady-eyed smile and also Tommy Cooper’s sweating bewilderment.  The appearance of good nature simply flows out of him.

It’s a slow start to be sure, a bit of plinky guitar playing, cheery chatting to the front row, it’s at best a relaxed pace.  He’s a natural host, friendly and interactive. 

He does ‘a bit’ where musical style is a metaphor for a woman. A sultry, sexy American woman is depicted with Eric Clapton’s Layla, where as a local Irish girl is illustrated with ungainly, clodhopping  folk tune. OK, funny, bit simple, seen it before.  

It’s at this point he writes his own review ‘I realised 20 minutes in to a 50 minute show, that I only had 20 minutes of material!’  Yes, yes he does!  It’s a breathtaking bit of cheek to externalise what some of the audience (including me) have already thought, but there’s something of the big kid about him that makes this more disarming than irritating.  And strangely, after this elephant in the room has been acknowledged the show really gains momentum.

He has funny bones, the kind that can engage people across a broad age range.   He’s got quaint social observations on manners, on mistaken identity, on group behaviour at a big concert, but it is his musical mucking about on the alto melodica and his robust physical incarnation of at least two of the Jackson Five that really brought out the guffaws. 

He clearly knows the comic benefits of a fat man dancing should never be underestimated.  This is a light lunchtime show – you could take children but it is certainly not a children’s show.  It’s enjoyable, untaxing, and could do with a bit more content. But Cooke’s not a big name in the UK and this is an excellent calling card for the Irish star.