An air of menace hangs about John Bishop. The small audience was greeted by an off-stage announcement warning them not to heckle. When Bishop appeared, he explained he had had to deal with three drunken women hecklers the previous night and his problem was he could not punch them.
He went on to say that any male hecklers would be hit, and talked about his father’s time inside for battering a man. Welcome to the world of Liverpudlian humour.
The show was the story of Bishop’s conversion from medical drugs company sales and marketing director to professional stand-up comedian, via marital difficulties. It was charmingly told and enjoyable in the same way as a good digestive biscuit and a piping hot mug of tea - pleasant but not filling.
Bishop has the gift of the gab but he is, at heart, a comedy hack. Putting ancient gags about US airport immigration cards - previously used over many years by countless try-out spots - into a fringe show was poor indeed.
He is an able storyteller but lacks depth, sophistication and some veracity in his material. It would appear he parted on good terms with his employer and never said, “Stick your job up your arse”.
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