Andrew Bird doesn’t care anymore if he is liked or not. He has spent all his life trying to be accepted by all, mainly since he feels he has nothing to give, being your average white, straight male Brit. The thing is, Bird doesn’t fit under that category. He doesn’t see the fun in watching a woman parking a car (since he himself acknowledges that he can’t park either), and he actually enjoys ironing. Throughout the whole hour, Bird humorously highlights those traits that defy the lad label, but it’s one he struggles to shake thanks to ‘a face that looks like it reads Nuts magazine’.
If this all seems to lack originality on paper (and let’s be honest, his flier doesn’t do him justice either), the truth is that Bird is extremely funny. He is hilarious in fact, carrying the whole show without any tumbleweed moments, the audience laughing at his every word or gesture.
His honesty is a breath of fresh air after the troops of male comedians who over-exaggerate stories in search of punchlines, or think comedy is insulting the audience and swearing every two seconds. Bird doesn’t need any of those gimmicks because he is a natural comedian. He is also very good with the audience, effortlessly charming and engaging.
Even when his material fades a little towards the end, he still manages to keep us on side by poking fun at his marriage and own clumsy attempts – despite everything – to be liked. Highlights include what happens when his wife sneezes while he’s inside her; failed attempts to impress the in-laws (not related to the previous gag); and hilarious attempts to atone for a joke involving a swastika.
Bird shouldn’t worry about being liked. It is obvious that he is loved by his audience.
Adrian G. Velazquez