Just being at The Lowry is a treat with its futuristic setting on The Quays, all a-glow in metallic wonder. Seeing Jon Richardson was an added bonus with his support act-come-flat mate making the opening act an absolute riot, a crackin’ evening well spent in the ever so classy establishment.
I’m sure Richardson’s support, Danny Buckler is simply wonderful when he’s not supporting his chum, but the familiarity between the two certainly had a relaxing effect on the audience creating an atmosphere of joviality that can only arise between pals.
Richardson’s comedy is of a gentler variety in comparison to the loud and vivacious Buckler, who flung himself about the stage illustrating the women of his previous abode. His heroic tale of rescuing a woman from a scrap with her other-half on the street, that swiftly morphed into said woman launching herself onto his back “like a scrunchy wearing gollum”.
By the middle of Richardson’s half of the evening Isimply wanted to envelope his strange little-self in a hug. His stand-up centred around his lack of luck with women and his obsessive compulsive behaviour. When discussing a bit of lull in his sex-life he had casually lured the audience into believing, yes he had a bit of trouble with the lady-gender but not, you know EIGHT YEARS!
There are aspects of all stand-up gigs that will determinedly remain in your head as useless trivia for the rest of your days. The fact that Jon Richardson didn’t have sex for eight years is what I’ve taken from this particular jaunt. He was of course a brilliant wit and an all-round hoot, yet never-the-less, this is the fact that I intend to pass on to friend and foe a-like when Jon Richardson pops up in future.
