Mo Gilligan review – riotous red-carpet relatability from a big-hearted comic
Brighton DomeUnderpinned by standup craftsmanship as effortless as it is meticulous, Gilligan continues to prove his gift for bringing everyday scenarios to lifeThere are shaggy dog stories, then there’s the centrepiece anecdote of Mo Gilligan’s touring show, which narrates more or less in real time a recent glitzy night out on the Hollywood tiles. It’s quite the gambit for a standup known for his boy-next-door approachability to dedicate half an hour to this tale of red-carpet excess. Happy to say, Gilligan pulls it off with humility intact; his modesty, indeed, is the joke. Less happy to say, the story, which finds Mo and his London “mandem” given the VIP treatment in an LA nightclub, isn’t remarkable or variegated enough to justify its excessive length.I began to think that routine might constitute the whole show. But it doesn’t. There’s a fun opening number about black Britons on holiday. Later, the 37-year-old ranges across singledom and coupledom, drawing him into territory he has always effortlessly commanded – where boys do this and girls do that, on the dancefloor, in front of the telly, in the bedroom. “Men, we’re not good at apologising.” Women always know where the remote control is. Is any of it true? Gilligan is so skilled at bringing these everyday scenarios to life, so gifted at animating the telling detail, we’re happy to indulge a generalisation or three. Continue reading...

Brighton Dome
Underpinned by standup craftsmanship as effortless as it is meticulous, Gilligan continues to prove his gift for bringing everyday scenarios to life
There are shaggy dog stories, then there’s the centrepiece anecdote of Mo Gilligan’s touring show, which narrates more or less in real time a recent glitzy night out on the Hollywood tiles. It’s quite the gambit for a standup known for his boy-next-door approachability to dedicate half an hour to this tale of red-carpet excess. Happy to say, Gilligan pulls it off with humility intact; his modesty, indeed, is the joke. Less happy to say, the story, which finds Mo and his London “mandem” given the VIP treatment in an LA nightclub, isn’t remarkable or variegated enough to justify its excessive length.
I began to think that routine might constitute the whole show. But it doesn’t. There’s a fun opening number about black Britons on holiday. Later, the 37-year-old ranges across singledom and coupledom, drawing him into territory he has always effortlessly commanded – where boys do this and girls do that, on the dancefloor, in front of the telly, in the bedroom. “Men, we’re not good at apologising.” Women always know where the remote control is. Is any of it true? Gilligan is so skilled at bringing these everyday scenarios to life, so gifted at animating the telling detail, we’re happy to indulge a generalisation or three. Continue reading...