Review – Neil Sinclair: Charmingly Useless
In an empty courtyard, Neil Sinclair was fiddling with an audio output from his laptop. He gesticulated to the audio techs, one of whom dashed off and returned with a different cable. He wiggled the jack, and sound crackled through the loudspeakers. “All good, mate,” he called out to the sound desk, and surveyed the room. A semi-circle of chairs sat empty at the foot of the stage. When the audience finished trickling in, there could only have been twelve people in attendance.
I’m sure all comics have played gigs like this one. For most, this could be disheartening, but Sinclair, playing a short run of shows this week only, seems to revel in it. Shabbily dressed and scruffily bearded, his endearingly beleaguered personality immediately gets you on his side. He’s that guy who seems to stumble awkwardly from one good-natured mistake to the next, that friend from school who you always wished the best for but seems preternaturally susceptible to self-destruction.
His self-effacing set is a wonderfully enjoyable hour that, counter-intuitively, seems to play even better in a slightly empty room. The audience interaction moments – always a terrifying prospect for both participants, I’m sure – felt more genuine with such proximity to the performer. The silly jokes read from a ratty scrapbook felt more like a friend throwing you a pun he just thought of, rather than the posturing cleverness of a Professional Entertainer. That’s a compliment.
Sinclair’s best moments embraced his surreal and weird streak that (perhaps wisely) is held back during the first half. A carefully choreographed performance against a pre-recorded track is wonderful not merely for the premises and delivery, but for the self-awareness and throwaway asides. And a spiralling rumination on technological advances teeters on the verge of disaster but is saved by a fantastic final punchline, going down like a smooth blend of Louis C.K. and David O’Doherty. Well, okay, maybe not smooth, but something tells me he doesn’t mind.
