Jason Cook @ Pyramid Arts Centre, Warrington – 11th December 2009

Last night was my fourth comedy gig  in a week, as I went to watch Jason Cook perform his Edinburgh show, Fear.  About ten minutes before the show started there were only 4 people in the venue, which had me panicking a bit.  Luckily, this was boosted to a full 25 people by the time it kicked off.  I’ve been to a few gigs with a similar number of people and they usually go one of two ways: enjoyable, but slightly stilted, or enjoyable and intimate.  This gig found a new way – bonkers.  It’s nights like these why I go an see live comedy, when some strange magic happens and you have a really special night.

Through a combination of a lively, enthusiastic crowd and Cook’s charm and talent, he was able to turn the modest attendance to his advantage.  He talked to every group in the audience and so everybody felt instantly involved – especially the group of mature bikers in the front row.  His material was very funny, but it’s the rapport that he built with the crowd (if 25 people can be considered a crowd) that really made the evening what it was.

In the first half he mentioned that he had recently done a gig in an elf costume and that he might wear it in the second half.  When he came back from the interval in his normal clothes one of the bikers shouted: ‘Where’s your elf costume?’ and, after the rest of the audience agreed, he went out to his car to get it.  At which point, one of the bikers suggested that we hide (as Jason had suggested that we all hid when somebody went to the toilet, earlier).  We did try and hide but he came back and caught us.  To be honest, you probably had to be there.  I won’t even bother telling you about the bit when one of the bikers got on the microphone and threatened an anaesthetist (he was joking).

Anyway, Cook completed the gig in the elf costume (we wouldn’t let him take the hat off) and we all wore Santa hats.  At the end, he gave us all a free DVD of one of his previous shows, if we promised to give £5 to a homelessness charity (which I’ve just done).  It’s a shame that so few people managed to turn out for such a talented performer, although, if they had, the night might not have been as special.