Edinburgh Fringe comedy review

Gareth Mutch has taken the set-up for his sixth solo show right off the rack of ready-to-use premises. Entering his 30s, he can’t help but compare his life as an unsettled, poverty-stricken, childless comedian with that of his father at the same age.

It’s an idea we’ve seen countless times before, so wisely Mutch doesn’t make too much of it. All he really needs is some vague framework on which to hang the autobiographical anecdotes that he tells so well, and this is as good as any.

He spends the first few minutes in full compere mode, making the most of his innately friendly manner as he chats to a few punters and jokingly denigrates himself as looking like a ‘gay Hagrid’ – dipping into Robbie Coltrane’s accent at various points over the hour, largely to entertain himself. Mutch also occasionally dips into his father’s soothing Welsh accent, as well as a rough-as-arseholes Scouse that's a LOT less flattering.

During one routine in the show Mutch claims he always makes a bad first impression in real life – though I’d take that with a shovel of salt given how instantly he makes audiences warm to him in a comedy club setting.

He also tells us that in last year’s show he was ‘shitting on the concept of marriage’ - so of course he’s married now. His wife is ‘too good at being my rock’, meaning she does everything for him, effectively reducing the comedian to the level of a dependent child. 

That men and women shop differently kicks off a routine about the overpriced tat shop Menkind, whose stock of stuff that no one would ever need is easy comedy pickings that Mutch harvests effectively.

The first point at which he feels he’s falling short of his dad is the fact he can’t even drive – and the true story of the bizarre driving lessons he took is a fine showcase for his innate storytelling skills. The first of these took place in a deserted location where he probably wasn’t meant to be and under the less-than-watchful eye of a hapless instructor called ‘Rim’, which is inherently funny.

Mutch is not immune to odd behaviour himself, and he tells of following the ‘perfect man’ out of Waverley Station – perhaps hoping that some of his effortless style would rub off somehow. 

Not that the comic could shop the look, as his abject poverty is the main obstacle stopping him from matching dad’s life milestones. Property and children are expensive prospects when your bank account is at the level of loose change, as he nicely sums up in a neat conclusion.

It shows the precarious nature of comedy that someone like Mutch, so long in the game (he started young) and so naturally funny struggles to find two coins to rub together. If nothing else, Maybe Tomorrow shows off his talents as a comedian who’d be an asset on any bill.

Review date: 24 Aug 2025
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Stand 2