Neil Hamburger at Brudenell Club Review

It is not every day the legendary, legendary, legendary comedian Neil Hamburger is in town. He takes to the stage of Brudenell Club with all the poorly-timed, anti-comedy joys so outrageously orchestrated and written by character creator Gregg Turkington. A sweet soul off the stage, an out-of-step, phlegm-filled menace on it. This is the charm of Hamburger as a character. What made Seasonal Depression Suite such a fascinating album is found on stage in the function room of a social club. It all comes together remarkably well and for Hamburger, in this small crowd of dedicated fans, the pieces of a decades-long puzzle are unveiled. Remarkable anti-humour is tough on the writer at the heart of it because comedy often relies on the personable appeal of the performer. But reject it, as Hamburger does, and it becomes a blast.  

From jokes about Dave “bad dad” Grohl to the consistent moans and spilt drinks, Hamburger is not just a novelty act of bumbling, dated profanity. The jokes are sharp and the left-field punchlines, the goading of the audience and their involvement, are all part of strengthening this relationship. Keep building and then the rush of evaporating such a back-and-forth, after all the crowd work and establishing of key themes, is more rewarding than any genuine tale. This recent set is predominantly music-themed, with gags and one-liners far more rewarding in the hands of a Tony Clifton lounge singer like Hamburger than anyone else. Turkington is keen to uncover, as many anti-comics are, where the limit for an audience is. Push and push, the repetition of a few key lines and phrases and then fill in the large gaps with jokes landing because they are far beyond expectation. 

There are now three phases for the anti-comic to work in. The first is to give way to the obvious tell, to play with the expectation of the audience and deliver it. The second is to move to the other end of the spectrum, to shock and leave an audience in dismay. Hamburger does both but with this incredible desire to age the contemporary topics. Grohl may be mentioned but the detail is in the shows he performed last year, rather than recent revelations about his personal life. Turkington avoids the contemporary because it would not make sense for Hamburger to be aware of it, and much of this broadens the gig as more than a potshot at contemporary figures. It is just luck they are still relevant.  

Hamburger then is a man out of time and the presentation of him as such, playing these iconic venues, is the best way to experience him. A show brilliant enough to inspire quotes the whole ride home, to recall the odd bits which slip through the mind at the moment but are pulled back, from the constant knock knock jokes to the advice on wearing a coat to Poland. Hamburger is a subversive comic and there is a risk to this style of performance – something Turkington nails with this character and has done for some time. A consistently puzzling gig, but those are the moments which give Turkington a breather, to compose himself, to moan or spill a drink down the Hamburger entity. It is tremendous showmanship all around, and part of that comes from the trust placed in an audience to observe a character like this.