Comedy review: Rhod Gilbert, Glasgow King’s Theatre

THIS show, claims Rhod Gilbert, marks the first time he’s revealed his real self. Or at least, the first time he’s openly admitted to his “petty, argumentative and contrary” nature.

All rubbish of course, but the veracity of his elaborately contrivances are never an issue, the detailed backstory he evokes gifting just enough truth to his patently untrue yarns to keep them absorbing. The kind of man who would cut off his nose to spite his face, or get a tattoo he hated to win a pointless argument, the Welshman affects to depart from fantasy for once with a glimpse into his failed relationship. This sets up a series of gripes against the workmen he employed to build his would-be marital home, his anger management diary, and the trivial consumer complaints he’s fired off over various products. Notwithstanding the layers of character he’s playing with, Gilbert is in serious danger of veering into predictable self-parody, or at least the mere carricature of an agitated consumer. Only because so few comics can build a head of steam with the same fury, through a series of extended rants, can gloss over the fact that his shows increasingly feel like pale imitations of his breakthrough And The Award-Winning Mince Pie. One stand-off, with a hapless manager of Tesco over the purchase of a baked potato is much too reminiscent of the central contretemps at the heart of that story. For all of his brilliance at eking out his incredulity over the concept of a “travelling chef” on a train, and the neat manner in which he wraps up various strands of his blarney, this latest nervous breakdown feels a little forced.

Rating: * * *