Review by Aleksandra Brzezicka
Ladies and gentleman, here comes the canary man (respect for the yellow-on-yellow jumpsuit). The self-described basic bitch and a wonderful lover. The first one to bring comedy to the London Eye and tremendously fail. Jack Barry, at BrewDog.
Barry’s show Alien took us on the most banal tour ever, through the glory and gory details of everyday life. It’s a show that makes you feel like you’re back at your flat, cracking jokes, drinking beer, smoking pot and gossiping like teenage girls about your smelly cousin Dave and crippling social anxiety.
And Barry himself makes you feel like you’ve known each other for five years, not minutes. He knows your name; you know that he once wet the bed as an adult. Friends forever. After all, as a former Facebook and Twitter guru for KFC, he’s a national hero or chicken paedophile. You decide.
He’s got a problem with oversharing, so we’ve found out all the juicy bits about Martina from Argentina, aka his foreign girlfriend, aka an endless source of anecdotes. Bruce Wayne is Bruno Diaz over there. Some of us won’t recover from that information. So she’s foreign and Barry makes sure that the audience notices that too, bringing up the immigrant topic about 60+ times during 60 minutes show. His balancing on the racism border, even when it came to the China taboo theme, was well-handled. Perhaps because he doesn’t believe in boundaries at all. After all, he finds ‘suck my d***’ to be a compliment, not an insult.
Now, Leicester’s great, London’s great, England’s great. British people are not a bad as they paint them. Except that sometimes they are. And while you’re just sitting there, checking your phones for coronavirus updates, Jack Berry is trying to make England a bit less hostile. Not bad, mate. Not bad at all. You can suck my d***.
