O2 Arena, London
Glimpses of wit float to the surface in this sex-and-excrement bonanza … but are quickly flushed away by tedious misogyny
Two trips to the O2 in 10 days: two shows wallowing in faeces. Reader, the life of the comedy reviewer is not all glamour. After Jack Whitehall, now it’s Jim Jefferies. Having made his name in the UK and in his native Australia with misogynistic “bad-boy” standup, Jefferies made his fortune in the US with the sitcom Legit and his own show on Comedy Central. Alas, success has barely improved his live act, which – while not reaching the grim depths of his earlier work – is often boorish.
This is the kind of show that elicits cheers for offending the French and suggesting that those with peanut allergies “can fuck off as well”. Jefferies’ show The Night Talker circles around a rangy anecdote about his lactose intolerance, which finds him bursting to go to the toilet while on a date with a germophobe. Tension mounts as we wait to see whether 42-year-old Jim can keep the poo in and – very important, this – get laid.
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