A man who has trademarked meandering monologues, comedian Sean Lock is now celebrated rather than squinted at with befuddlement for his whimsical and sidewinding wit.
A regular on panel shows QI and 8 Out Of 10 Cats, Lock seeks out laughs in probable places via improbable curveballs. What seems like a banal starting point, say a gag about osteopaths or blasphemy, can go one of two ways: into a flurry of insight or a cleverly woven web of surreal humour (in the case of these two topics, into 1970s wrestling and mythical beasts).
Occasionally the two comic conclusions collide although, despite the psychedelic title of his latest show, Purple Van Man heads off into nonsense less often than Lock’s regular crowd might expect. Less often, but not never.
No amount of digging into the history of stand up comedy, for instance, will reward you with a linchpin joke about a backwards-facing centaur – never mind one that jumps from script to physical sketch on either side of the interval.
Nor is it really possible to follow the polemic path that starts with Lock’s Chinese-made underpants and ends in a belly-laugh routine about liquidising criminals.
But who would discourage such behaviour? Because Lock is certainly funniest when he’s allowed to pick a scab until it results in amputation; until ennui becomes unreal.
This comes through best when he discusses a genuine irritation: his knowledge-hungry children following him around the house with a string of science questions egged on by the ghost of his former physics teacher; the apparent ease of certain professions (chemists, beware); or his wife’s dismissive attitude towards great pub conversation topics.
Purple Van Man isn’t the best Lock can do, but it still vividly demonstrates he possesses comic timing miles ahead of his contemporaries.
Sean Lock is at The Lowry again tonight (Saturday), £22 – thelowry.com
