The Junction, Cambridge
His last tour was called Too Ugly for Television. This one is called Best Kept Secret in Comedy. Whether that represents a spike in self-confidence or just a change in PR direction, Andrew Lawrence's current show reveals a mellower side to the crabby misanthrope twice nominated for the Edinburgh Comedy award. That's a good and bad thing: Lawrence's company is now easier to enjoy, but his distinctive persona has been diluted in the process. He remains an unrepentant curmudgeon, however, whose flights of spite are entertaining, articulate – and in need of targets more deserving of their rage.
Now 31, Lawrence is still the skinny schoolkid stockpiling malice at the back of the class. Tonight, he takes aim at the coercive good cheer of Christmas and New Year, and at people who visit gyms or work in "shit jobs". ("Can I help you?/ "You can't even help yourself – look at the state of you.") The technique sees him set up roleplays between himself and the offending parties, then vanquish them with tirades of eloquent abuse. The eloquence (there's an adroit patter-song about his frustration with queuing, for example) earns his biggest laughs. Others are more cheaply won – with a routine about farting in lifts, or by Lawrence's flair for funny voices.
The best moments are when Lawrence aims his fury at surprising targets. "There's something sinister about applause" is a nice insight. Elsewhere, he stalks easy, trivial prey (queues, rail travel, poor people), and shows no inclination to address the forces that keep people in queues, on crap trains, and poor. That's too bad – he has the wit, cussedness and powers of venomous expression to do them damage.