Review of The Room Next Door comedian out on tour

In Hope All’s Well, Michael Spicer tries to put his Room Next Door internet persona behind him. Playing the increasingly maddened political adviser as Donald Trump wangs on incoherently about his reflecting pool, the comic harrumphs: ‘I can’t do this any more. No one wants to live through this…’ and casts aside the alter-ego.

However, he can’t so easily discard his mastery of video sketches that made him such a viral success, and this is a show heavy on the screen work, with Spicer often interacting from the stage. Early on there’s a spoof ad for cruises for when you’ve given up on life – just like those the algorithm serves him now he’s approaching 50 –  and a political think-tank consisting entirely of privileged white middle-aged men called Tim.

Broadly, this is a softly-spoken but astute satire on the enshittification of life – from online content becoming nothing but AI slop or crude adverts for needless products like Huel to tech advances no one asked for, such as Dyson’s £1,000 toothbrush. When the satire extends to politics, it’s about the bland, insincere language MPs use for apologies, meaning  being replaced by rote phrases in a very AI sort of way.

The show’s meant to spread hope and positivity – a worthy aim that seems doomed as Spicer delves ever deeper into the grimly dystopian future that billionaire tech moguls have planned for us as mindless drones scrolling our way out of real interactions or cares.

But, unlikely as it seems, optimism comes from him considering that these mega-wealthy weirdos, with their lack of empathy for normal human experience, have made the AI vomitorium of social media so unusable that maybe we will turn away from it, just as we collectively turned away from Mark Zuckerberg’s insanely expensive and utterly awful Metaverse.

Though this informed social commentary is at the heart of Hope All’s Well, Spicer describes it as an ‘old-fashioned variety show’ – albeit one with green-screen videos rather than acrobats and jugglers.

The best example of a sketch for its own sake is a parody of the Beatles documentary Get Back, which is perfectly on point. Spicer is able to inhabit each of the Fab Four with just one wig and very little physical resemblance, but carrying it off with a faithful mimicry of how each musician deports himself. But we are watching it on video – could this not be created live? 

There is a huge irony in a comedian urging us to ditch our screens, only to come out to watch his output on a screen. It means we don’t really connect with Spicer as a performer, especially given his delivery is so muted. But he has thoughtful things to say and a witty way of saying them.

Review date: 30 Oct 2026
Reviewed by: Steve Bennett
Reviewed at: Cambridge Junction