Before anything else happens, young Bristol-farmboy-cum-London-comedian Joel Dommett wants to be clear we’re aware that standup is in fact extremely difficult; apparently too many make it look easy, which supposedly undermines the recognition they could be getting for their strident efforts. 

Not only Joel’s first ever New Zealand show, this Classic Studio opening is his first ever outing for the affably manic confessional he calls Finding Emo.  He hits the stage running, spurred on by the intro music from his favourite band, Crazy Town, which he talks up more than you might ever have expected to hear anyone do. 

The main narrative thread concerns his quest for the woman of his dreams.  More specifically, the woman he saw on the tube recently on the way to a Crazy Town concert.  Apparently his show was going to be about proving he can focus by becoming a world champion at something before he got distracted… 

Upholding the classic British digressive traditions of Tommy Cooper and Ronnie Corbett, Joel’s genuinely intriguing and adventurous tale is interspersed with countless asides, sharing particular ideas and observations, as they seem to come to mind. 

He has also seen fit to illustrate and augment the earnest desperation underpinning his formative years by reading excerpts from the diary he kept as a teenager in Bristol, unironically committing his trials and triumphs to a hardcover exercise book like a thirteen-year old girl. 

He goes back further to childhood, recalling atypical imaginary friends who disdainfully ignored him, tells us the woefully amusing story behind his forearm tattoo and finds time along the way to share his inspired remedy for dealing with people who always fall asleep when you’re watching a DVD. 

Dommett often seems as incredulous about his somewhat twisted anecdotes as anyone else.  As the events in his search for love reach their climax (not like that, although…), he’s elated by the supportive response, given he feels the show has dragged a bit in the middle.  I’m not sure I agree, but certainly his quietly frenzied, pointedly tangential rambling style is well suited to the later timeslot.

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