» Review: Scott Capurro
Capurro’s set was a fearless assault on his audience and the world. Challenging everything, he turned the idea of political correctness inside out and upside down. You laughed and you cringed as he upset everyone with his acid tongue and razor sharp observations. His delivery was near flawless, quick-fire and merciless, only faltering when a drunken woman at the front finally got to him. No problem though, he ripped her apart, ate her alive and then spat her out. Politics, racism, sexuality and his mother – not even she was spared his barbed tongue in what had to be the most blisteringly funny comedy set I have seen in years. Forget Frankie Boyle, Scott Capurro is on fire and taking no prisoners.
Komedia, 26 March
5/5
Andrew Kay
What a relief, this show is new and I’m a bit terrified of it. Some gays complained about the ticket price in Glasgow last night. They didn’t want their money back, they just wanted to stay and watch MORE comics. One (me) just wasn’t enough. And there was me, thinking I was too much. Way too much.
See you at the Pleasance Dome, 8 pm, for the entire run of the Fringe, whenever in August that is.
A LOVELY GUARDIAN REVIEW ABOUT MY CHAT SHOW, WHICH IS ALSO LOVELY.
Scott Capurro’s Position (with Michael Barrymore) – review
Royal Vauxhall Tavern, London
4 / 5
Brian Logan
The Guardian
Friday 8 October 2010 12.19 BST
One day, someone will make a great film, or write a great book, about Michael Barrymore. Maybe he’ll do it himself – but that’s harder to imagine. He experienced extraordinary fame, followed by an extraordinary fall from grace, with evidence of maladjusted vulnerability thrown in. Since the dead body of Stuart Lubbock was found in his swimming pool in 2001, Barrymore has been doomed to live in the image of his earlier celebrity. Whether or not he was in any way culpable for Lubbock’s death (he has never faced charges relating to the incident), he will, presumably, never escape its shadow. All he wants to do is make us laugh – but can we?
Barrymore has seldom talked about his feelings relating to the case and its aftermath. He almost certainly wouldn’t do so on TV. So his appearance at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern is a coup for comedian Scott Capurro, on whose live chatshow, Scott Capurro’s Position, Barrymore appeared. The first half of the event showcased the best and worst of the format. Capurro’s interview with standup Robin Ince was a clubbable chat between friends, in which Ince rehashed sections of his act and nothing new was revealed. The second guest, Lembit Öpik, yielded more laughs, and insights, as he fended off Capurro’s X-rated questions. “Do you prefer women who are lifeless and dead inside?” asked Capurro. “What is your stance on paedophilia?”.
But only when Barrymore appeared did the show’s bantering backchat give way to something more psychologically gripping. Upfront, Capurro declared himself a Barrymore devotee – and there was real warmth for him, too, among this mainly gay crowd. As Barrymore said, in reference to his once firmly closeted sexuality: “[These people] were brought up watching me. They knew what they were looking at. I didn’t know.” The whole story was recapped before our eyes: Barrymore’s Bermondsey upbringing; his early career as the link between song-and-a-dance, working men’s club comedy and the anarcho-alternative style to come; and his fascinating relationship with his wife, Cheryl, to whom he was “a husband, a lover, a child, and a career”. Cheryl dominated him: she told him what to wear, told him to cure his homosexuality by drinking white wine – and even now, he seems lost without her. (She died in 2005.)
It would take a hard heart not to sympathise with Barrymore as he talks about his efforts to conduct himself “with good grace” on his “journey”. He regrets inviting friends – and strangers – to his house on that night in 2001. “That’s my part in it,” he says. “I didn’t say no.” He talks about the unwatchable failure of his West End comeback in 2003. And even though he’s clenched with nerves throughout the interview, he talks about his recovery. “It’s taken this long to get a tiny bit of peace in here. And I haven’t had that since I was eight.” The crowd claps supportively, Capurro asks his next question – and on an instant, Barrymore turns on his interviewer, for cutting off the applause prematurely. “I think I could have had more there, Scott.” It’s an extraordinary moment, in which Barrymore dares to imply that even his vulnerability is an act designed to please a crowd. That pushy, unpredictable talent to amuse is very much intact. But will Barrymore ever again be able, or allowed, to use it?
Scott Capurro’s Position
Royal Vauxhall Tavern, London
Runs weekly, Thurs nights
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