The room upstairs in the Library is aglitter with fairy lights and candles, a more inviting venue than the Original Oak that boasts the identical line up each week. As the chairs begin to fill, most people hover awkwardly, desperately trying to find a seat outside of the gaze of the compere. A few arrogant people rush straight to the front not realising how they will suffer for this later.
The evening’s host, Andrew Ryan, is instantly likeable and very funny. A soft Irish accent with a touch of camp makes his verbal harassment of the audience all the more tolerable. The only possible point at which his audience interaction becomes awkward is after my late return from the interval. Ryan asks where I have been, and my heart begins to pound as I urge myself to not to say anything that will give him ammunition. After I mutter something about just being outside on the street, he retorts that I must be a prostitute. Damn.
Ian Moore, the first act, has a startling resemblance to Jack Dee. Although Moore is endlessly entertaining, he perhaps falls short of laugh-out-loud funny. Unenthusiastic and cynical, he would be good company down the pub on a rainy afternoon, but would struggle to draw in the crowds. The headliner, Nathan Caton, immediately puts the crowd at ease with a remark about his likeness to Lemar. You feel that you shouldn’t laugh; he has more in common with Frankie Boyle than Michael McIntyre. With topics including Princess Diana and the Batman shooting, Caton is not for the feint-hearted.
The House of Fun is good value entertainment, and a more interesting way to spend Thursday night than down on Call Lane. Just make sure you are in on time, unless you like being called a prostitute.
Harriet Agerholm