Cambridgeshire comedy writer Eugene Smith writes on stand-up

The working men’s clubs have been replaced by the comedy circuit, which some have claimed democratised comedy, erroneously believing that prior to The Comedy Store stand-up consisted entirely of fat men in frilly shirts telling mother-in-law jokes.

In fact the current “everyone gets a go” ethos has resulted in a surfeit of bearded ninnies in dungarees and besuited accountants, all lacking the self-awareness to understand why they don’t get any paid gigs.

It’s true that the professional circuit has far more diversity than ever before, but what a dreary, one-note thing it’s become.

With a few exceptions, comedy audiences tend to be left-leaning or at least liberal, so shouting 'I hate the Tories' isn’t really pushing yourself or the boundaries of comedy.

It’s lazy and boring. You don’t have to agree with the comic’s barbs to find them funny as long as they’re well-crafted, Frankie Boyle being a sadly rare instance of this.

At the other end of the spectrum we have comics whose material is so weak that they resort to sixth-form level tantrums about the government, Brexit etc. No jokes. Just tantrums. If you’re reading Hal, you can have that catchphrase on me.

Perhaps the most disheartening aspect of modern stand-up is the rise of the niche comic, who rely on lowest common-denominator observations to get hollow laughs from an indulgent audience.

There’s an important distinction to be made between not being able to relate to a comic’s material and disliking their style.

The unashamedly silly Tim Vine might not make you laugh, but that’s because it isn’t your type of humour.

Not laughing at the fifteenth reference to a mother drinking prosecco means you’re not in the audience demographic. Which makes it bordering on deceitful to advertise such shows as general comedy.

Not many laughs here. Next time, animation.

eugenesmithwriting.com