Gig review by Steve Bennett

The pram in the hall is said to spell the death of creativity, but for comedians a new baby can easily be a rich vein of new material, just as long as they take care not to alienate the child-free.

It’s a trap Comey Central's new favourite, Chris Ramsey, sidesteps with a story of his now 20-month-old son Robin taking an inappropriate dump. For when is unwanted poo ever not funny?

(And we must give a shout out to the Latitude cameraman who zoomed in on the mined turd Ramsey held out gingerly, and invisibly)

Elsewhere, stories of overindulgent grandparenting hit home thanks to the stand-up’s exaggerated outrage on the way such lax stewardship affects his previously well-behaved lad; while stories of the creepy behaviour of other toddlers, especially when sleepwalking, evokes horror-film imagery, the creepiness in comic juxtaposition with the cuteness of the kid.

Ramsey describes Robin as a ‘happy kid, always chuffed about something’, and it’s clear where he gets that from. The comedian exudes high spirits, forever gushing about what good fun this Latitude gig is, and always seeing the best in bad situations.

The former is best illustrated by a running joke about various fruits, tied in with the usual Latitude jibes about the well-to-do audience, which work well with Ramsey’s cheeky-chappie Geordie charm. Especially when he spies a fold-up chaise longue in the front rows.

And the latter comes to the fore as he retells the much-publicised story of how he was once arrested, in his underpants and in a swanky London hotel, after being mistaken for a knife-wielding racist. Taken, like most of today’s set, from his last tour, this cracking anecdote is told with cheery self-deprecation and eye for silly detail amid the great drama.

Ramsey’s unlikely to ever redefine comedy, but his infectiously upbeat storytelling is a welcome tonic on a languid festival afternoon.

Review date: 14 Jul 2017
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett