By Matt Gardner
A lot of people describe Gyles Brandreth as a funny man. The chance to see his latest show, Word Power, was a good way to check if they were referring to his hilarious performances on BBC radio programmes like Just a Minute, or his unpredictable career – such as the fact he's a Teddy Bear Museum curator, and Scrabble championship organiser and former Tory MP.
This show was a sell-out in Edinburgh – and one that received five-star reviews – so it appears that stand-up entertainer can also be added to that roster of massive, if not strangely varied, talents.
So it was surprising to see that this multi-talented performer filled only the first ten rows of the usually-packed City Varieties; the rest were more or less empty. A standard Monday, perhaps.
Brandreth seemed unfazed by this. His verbose, gregarious personality shone from the first minute, as he adapted to the locals by immediately showing his own word power. As someone who clearly knows his crowd – his own generation – he quickly put everyone at ease with openers that playfully teased those collecting their State Pension.
And then the show began. Word Power is Brandreth's love letter to the English language. Using Shakespeare and Dickens as a jumping-off point, he stresses how powerful words are, and how they evolve. Hearing his refined, booming voice describe someone positively as a "cool sick mean bitch" certainly proved this point early on, and was a delight to the ears.
Then, the structure went a little out of the window. It became a collection of discussions about language, a scattering of (admittedly) interesting facts about English, and anecdotes from his own incredibly storied life, featuring friends including Joanna Lumley, Donald Sinden and the Queen herself.
Some of these were completely unconnected to the show, but the tales were nonetheless exciting - not least the one where he describes his time in the royal box at the Royal Variety Performance, where it's clear that the Queen and Prince Phillip are as indifferent to proceedings as he is.
He wasn't so much funny as interesting. Jokes often landed, but a few were predictable – although Brandreth did seem to acknowledge this – and he let his passion, not punchlines, do most of the entertaining.
There were occasional moments where his sense of humour went from old-fashioned banter to pretty questionable. One was when he was briefly peddling his book, Word Play, before the break – only to spend just a little bit too long having a dig at his wife. Slightly uncomfortable.
The second came through an audience participation section, where he started strong, but then described a man as looking "transgender". The thing was, there was no payoff; it just sounded like he wanted to laugh at someone's expense, and that was the first thing that came to mind. And that's not a great go-to putdown.
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At his request towards the end of the show, I shouted his two-word "phrase of the night" back to him. He then called me transgender, too. Fine, Brandreth, I'll never help you out again. I still don't really know why he did it, but I suppose it's a story to tell the grandkids.
Quibbles aside, the one thing that shone throughout the performance was that Brandreth's true love – ahead of his wife, it seems – is the English language, and all the little stories about it that prove just how fascinating it is. His delivery was incredible, his memory was sharp, and while he was wordy, he was never long-winded.
However, his ability to use language to deliver a consistent narrative, much like a stand-up comedian – or, at least, an entertainer – needs a bit more work. There was a start, but no real middle or end.
It just felt like there was something missing for most of the show. This is a man with more strings to his bow than even the most seasoned stand-up comedian, and while the aforementioned anecdotes were a joy for the most part, they only seemed to scratch the surface of an incredibly intelligent and talented man's back catalogue.
Still, it'd be interesting to see him do it again. He strikes me as a Ross Noble-esque character – someone who'll do a different set each night, with only a handful of jokes. Perhaps his performances this summer will fare a little better.
