Stuart Goldsmith: Another Lovely Crisis
Live Review

I’ve previously accused Stuart Goldsmith of bossy over-confidence, but over this hour he is nothing but a charming, nice and funny guy chronicling his ongoing battle with his Woody Allen-esque neuroses about pretty much everything the world throws at him. Goldsmith initially shows how he can be decisive in a crisis by describing how, dressed as a copper for a bit-part in a sitcom, he came across a real life street 'character' with a can of cider in each paw and a flick knife in his pocket, and defused the situation by reacting quickly.

Yet when it comes to dealing with the everyday decisions in life – even something as apparently straightforward as choosing a camping mallet – that's when he panics. Anyone who ever been stressed – which is everyone – will identify with this, but the show is particularly pertinent to anyone who's ever suffered panic attacks or catastrophised (psycho-speak for thinking the worst). And take it from me it's cathartic to laugh about it.

Part of Goldsmith's charm is that he's endearingly self-deprecating. He notes that in most situations he likes to get involved but is 'more confident than useful’. It's a considered hour's material in which Goldsmith successfully stands on the outside looking in at himself, pokes fun at his fretting and also wonders what his beloved young godson is likely to pick up from him.

Goldsmith, currently appearing on ITV’s Show Me The Funny, is disarmingly honest here, noting that he's better at dealing with a crisis when he's got an audience to show off to. Then, of course, are the gags, which comed frequently and consistently.

His timing and intonation are well-honed, and seemingly effortless, but what's truly lovely is his turn of phrase, he describes his rather safe choice of shoes as being the type favoured by 'boys that don't like puddles' and when organising an impromptu rave at a five-year-old's birthday party he plays them the kind of hardcore electronica that sounds like 'a wolf kicking a keyboard up an escalator.'

The only wasp in the orangeade is that one gag about scaring fellow passengers on a plane is very much like one of Arthur Smith's, but we'll let that one go as elsewhere he barely puts a sensibly shod foot wrong.