It’s a show about a gap year. It would not be remiss to hear such a premise and let out an audible groan; and well, yeah, it’s a groanworthy show. Perhaps not for the reason you’d think, Chilton is not up there extolling the virtues of finding oneself, his show is all about the darker side of his gap year – but this doesn’t make it any less obnoxious. Chilton really struggles to get anything going from the start; his delivery and timing are spotty, his comments and observations receive some laughs, but it’s more for their garishly obscenity than for their wit.
Chilton does not have one intelligent insight or interesting anecdote for the entire first half of his show. He begins a dialogue abut how attractive he finds his step mum; it’s odd in the worst way possible, everyone knows where it’s going, and the payoff is entirely as uninteresting as you suspect it will be. He limps from obscenity to obscenity in this fashion without gaining much traction. At one point he goes into torturous detail about one of his first sexual experiences, during which he paints an admirable visual image, but again it’s without any discernible point or worthy punchline.
To be clear, there’s nothing wrong with bawdiness, but like with any other joke there has to be some sort of punchline or insight. Chilton’s show often feels like shock for shock’s sake. Towards the middle and end, however, he finally seems to gain some momentum. He takes you through a bout with psychosis, during which he hallucinates a malevolent cold sore on George Bush’s face. Some of it is brilliantly bizarre and unique, and he even delivers some interesting observations about psychosis and pithy quips about Edward Snowden. It’s too few and far between, however, and it can’t save Chilton’s show from an immature fixation with shock boorishness.
Luke Chilton: Netflix and Chilton, 20.00, Just the Tonic at Cabaret Voltaire, until August 25
https://tickets.edfringe.com/whats-on/luke-chilton-netflix-and-chilton
