Leicester Comedy Festival review: Suck Seed at Wygston’s House
Review by Emily Barker
Two comedians walk into a bar; quite literally.
And I’m not far behind them. Climbing the haunted-looking staircase of Wygston’s House, I take a seat in the smallest venue that I’ve been in for the comedy festival among perhaps the smallest audience to date. But for a rather tiny congregation of people, it’s a fairly loud event.
Jo Dexter and Gaëlle Constant, who tag-team their way through the show, tell us that Suck Seed is about their success stories, or much rather not-so-success stories.
Constant opens the show, introducing herself by running up the aisle and getting the crowd revved up for what’s to follow.
But perhaps the audience could have used a little more revving. Rutlander Dexter opens her segment of the show by bigging up Leicester, to which the crowd responds with silence, until Jo cajoles them to cheer for their hometown. Everyone from Leicester must own a chippy, she tells us, as she frequently hears people saying that they’re going to batter them.
Dexter has an easy-going charm, taking her life stories and turning them into jokes that win ready laughs from the audience.
She complains her mattress makes more noise than she does during sex, and that it sounds like that’s having more fun than her. She also says her eyes got divorced 17 years ago and that they’re still fighting for the house, and that they’re borrowed from the prop department of Sesame Street.
Belgian stand-up Constant returns to the stage moments later, and things look promising to begin, with self-deprecating jokes about seeing herself as French if she says something rude or does something wrong.
But her act dwells on her family, and porn. How many times can we hear “my dad is a pornographer” before we get bored? The answer: not many.
It’s not all negative. Her line about money – “I have it, I spend it, if not I just eat bread” – rang true as a struggling student. She thinks d*** pics should be like art; something she can put on her wall. Almost like ‘Where’s Willy?’, she says. And she showed us a poster for an erotic film. In my eyes, it was a pretty cool idea.
It seems apparent that her whole segment was about porn, whether she tried for it not to be or not. The show itself was rated 16 plus, but it should maybe be 18 plus for the mature content on both parts.
Overall, for a show charging £5 for tickets delivered exactly what I was expecting; amateur comedy. With some sketches being funnier than others, each comedian earned a few laughs from the audience members and seemed to impress those in the room.
I may not go see this duo again, it wasn’t for me, but if you like slightly vulgar yet relatable comedy, this will be right up your street.