Review from the Royal Opera House, London

The Royal Opera House is undoubtedly one of the swankiest venues ever to have hosted the proudly grubby art of stand-up. It’s down to a booking error, Bill Bailey suggests, and at this very moment, Katherine Jenkins is facing a hostile crowd at the Lowestoft Chuckle Lounge.

The interloper plays up the outsider status as the first comic ever to play the prestigious 156-year-old venue. When a reference to the Iceland stores draws a blank, he has great fun depicting the upper-class opera-goers being amused by this base vaudevillian performing his humble skits for their aloof amusement. It seems like a genuinely improvised riff on the grandeur surrounding him.

But he’s always been more erudite than his beardy-weirdy demeanour suggests. That’s further proved here with a wonderful set piece imagining the chaste, Victorian version of Love Island.

It was his own success on a reality show that helped land him this prestigious gig, of course, and some time after reflecting on how life has changed now he’s bona fide mainstream tabloid fodder, Bailey gets to show off his Strictly-honed dance moves. But it comes in a typically idiosyncratic routine about the mating rituals of the red bird of paradise, which he travelled to Indonesia to film.

Bailey’s fleet of foot in his stand-up, too, and the two-hour show is impressively wide-ranging. He starts by laying into the uselessness of Boris and his Cabinet (and, briefly, Keir Starmer for balance). It comes to something when a man who stands on stage and talks about otter shit and plays the Chinese gourd flute is the voice of reason.

Yet while politicians of every stripe hijack the concept of ‘Britishness’ to their aims, surely Bailey represents the best of it: kind, curious, intelligent, and with a laid-back, self-deprecating sense of humour about how mildly disappointing life on this slightly rubbish island is.

However, ‘disappointing’ doesn’t apply to his work, especially when it comes to the musical mucking about that’s his trademark. Here the audience (still socially distanced) get a duet for iPhones; Old Macdonald as performed by Tom Waits; an Appalachian blues number played on a bible; the Star-Spangled Banner played in a far-mangled manner; and an hilarious primer in what not to do when playing metal guitar. In honour of the location, we get Nessun Dorma on the cowbells and even a genuine soprano. 

The stand-up is equally eclectic, with references ranging from Jason Bourne to Samuel Pepys, East 17’s Brian Harvey to Sisyphus. But his intelligence is always worn lightly – these are supposed to be lightweight Summer Larks, after all – and the pipe-smoking professorial stance he sometimes adopts sends up any possible pretension.

It’s a selection box of treats without any grand narrative or themes… just a much-loved comic hanging out with his audiences after so many months apart. And, aptly, Bailey hits all the right notes.

Review date: 6 Aug 2021
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Royal Opera House