Rob Beckett, St David's Hall, Cardiff review - a mixed bag of observations

There’s been no avoiding Rob Beckett in recent years. His high beam smile and infectious personality have made him a mainstay of comedy shows. Now he’s back on the road with what he calls the best job in the world, stand up. You can tell he means it, with a show that thrives on enthusiasm if not consistency.

“Wallop” is a show of two halves, quite literally. There’s no tour support, instead favouring a cheap selection of inappropriate songs to introduce two 45-minute sets from Beckett. He uses this time to zip through a mass of topics, including cookware, soft play, family weddings and Kinky Boots.

At his best, Beckett is a hilarious observational comic. His inter-class marriage provides him with a gold mine of material, whether it’s his children’s mixed accents or the different levels of Center Parcs visitors. When it lands, it hits that sweet point between the truth and the unexpected, bringing roars of laughter and nods of recognition. He also nails the self-aware jokes, with his titty-wobble issues and an accent you wouldn't trust in a bank advert.

But not everything lands. The structure is rather slapdash, bouncing between anecdotes and asides, with some material feeling lazy and dated. Repeated mother-in-law jokes and a few punchlines of “pussyyy” in a high voice have the depth and consideration of Wetherspoons banter. Worse still is the misjudged routine on Greta Thunberg, consisting of a screwed-up face and a strained “how dare you”. With no actual gag, the impression just comes across as mocking. Not offensive as such, just poor. Then again, some in the audience found it hilarious; each to their own.

Beckett ends with a hysterical demonstration of his body’s biggest secret. No spoilers, but you’ll certainly keep a close eye on his clothing next time he’s on TV. It’s a great finish to a show that’s probably a strong hour, but a rather flabby 90 minutes. 

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