I've waited a while before writing about the Ross Noble gig at the Alban Arena on Wednesday. Initially, I thought I was just tired, but now, truth be told, I think I don't have much to say. It was the first time I had seen Ross live. Nina is quite a big fan, and I had watched his DVDs with her, they seemed quite good, but a DVD is not the same as the live experience. We went with H which was great as so many gigs are for over 18's only so it was a real treat. Maybe I don't have much to say because Ross is too good, but here goes.
Ross has charisma by the bucketload. Real instant-appeal charm that fills the stage. There is a wash of lyrical speech, light and engaging, coupled with the theatrical movement of his gangly limbs. I got the impression that he was seeing everything (the house lights were on mid setting throughout) and reading every face. He made use of the audience, picking up individuals and working with their responses. The charm made this inoffensive, so that the audience laughed with, and not at the 'victim'. A girl wearing a Star Wars tee shirt, a middle aged man in 'investments' and his 'don't pick on me' wife, a row of young men arriving late, they all got the Ross treatment. There were laughs from the start, not titters, but big belly laughs that came from a ridiculous scenario that Ross had worked up seemingly without prior planning. In fact, the entire first act felt unplanned, the routines, (and looking back, they were routines), seamlessly gliding into one another.
The big inflatable, a four Ross headed monster, at the back of the stage was a distraction and said nothing about the comedy, but, I suppose some sort of set is needed, and inflatables are his thing. The inflatable, and Ross' hand made shirt and yellow paint sprayed trainers were the most staged parts of the show, they made him some money too as the designs were on the tee shirts at £18 a throw.
The second half had a more set-list feel. There was a longish piece about shopping for his baby daughter which was weak, the observation simplistic and stale feeling. A fabulous interruption came when a man shouted a huge 'Yes' when he read the England football scores on his phone. This restarted a spontaneous vein of humour and upped the pace. The, perhaps un-necessary encore, was a disappointing Q&A, but Ross found his mojo at the last second with a bizarre riff on peripheral profiteroles (unfortunately, I can't remember what started it off).
My attention had been held the entire time, and afterwards, my ribs hurt and yet now I feel unsatisfied. Perhaps comedy has to challenge, to hurt just a little to be properly life affirming. Or, perhaps I'm looking for more than just comedy. There was nothing controversial, no ohh and think moment, the barest flicker of topical reference, and nothing local. It was a great night with the kids though. They loved Ross. Jump into the fire to save him kind of loved him. In the final analysis, Ross doesn't need me to love him, his act is a sell-out, and listening to the chatter as we left the venue, it wasn't hard to tell why.
