Andrew Maxwell - Waxin

Published Monday 13 August 2007 at 10:00 by Jeremy Austin

Andrew Maxwell is a comedy imp with Bart Simpson’s laugh and a great turn of phrase.

He sits centre stage for this hour of story-telling and gags on a stool - a spindly Dave Allen. It’s just chat and gags and with no theme, a welcome change from some of the contrivances that other comics come up with to help them through the hour.

Maxwell doesn’t need contrivances. There is a feeling with his show that he could talk all night if you let him and the laughter levels wouldn’t drop.

Everyone has flooding routines. Everyone has ‘Jihadist’ routines. Not many merge the two as successfully as Maxwell, who wonders whether Britain’s bad weather and the apathy it engenders in us will rub off on the home grown terrorists.

His routines are accompanied by moments of physicality and his ability with voices. No better is this observed than during the closing monologue and grand finale of the hour - a story about him, Bertie Ahern and the IRA - or with his observances on the people of Cork.

Maxwell’s great skill is convincing his audience that they want to listen to him. He manages this ably and could probably convince them to stay another couple of hours.