I have to admit that before I had even seen the man doing his stand-up show, I had resigned myself to not liking Michael McIntyre. What did a privileged private-school posh boy know about being funny? For me, the greats were Billy Connolly and more recently Peter Kay, who knew how to connect with real people in a way others couldn’t. But, I fear, I was being a bit ‘classist’. It was one night when there was nothing else on TV that I managed to catch McIntyre doing Live at the Apollo, and before I knew it, he had me drawn in and chucking about his reflections on normal life.
His musings about family life are not revolutionary, but they are honest and just plain funny. Something everyone, no matter where you’re from, can relate to.
And this was the same honest humour that he offered up on Saturday night during a two-night stint in Dubai.
McIntyre sprang from obscurity only a few years ago, but now he is more or less a household name in the UK, even taking a turn as a judge on Britain’s Got Talent — he later left because he didn’t want to be too mean. He’s also growing internationally, and has performed sell-out gigs in South Africa, Norway, Australia, New Zealand and Singapore.
His opening on Saturday night about Dubai and the notorious heat hit the mark for the audience, made up mostly of British expats. He had everyone in fits of laughter, myself included. He talked about cooking the Sunday roast while walking through the turnstiles at a hotel and how he’s never opened an oven and thought it’d be a nice place to live.
He also made fun of our drivers with the shortest brake distances in the world, as well as the Dubai love of the VIP.
For someone who is, shall we say, not the most svelte of people — although he tells us proudly he’s losing weight — he glides across the stage and flings his arms around like a demented Jerry Lewis. And it’s his physicality that enriches his humour.
He gyrated across the stage when telling us of British people on holiday and how they must announce their intentions to take a dip in the water and then spend ages trying to ease themselves into the cold briny sea and declare to others attempting the same “it’s fine once you’re in”.
The laughs came fast and furious and he only slowed down when he said he had completely forgotten the time and that he had yet to do his encore. So, he fled the stage only to reappear mere seconds later and regale the audience with tales of country living — where he now lives with his wife and two sons. As a city boy, he says, the country can be a daunting place. But he’s prepared for any intruders — he’ll adopt a Scottish accent, he says. It sounds better than his own when faced with a stranger up to no good.
Well, that may be so, but let’s hope he doesn’t make the change permanent. I can’t imagine McIntyre as anything other than that posh boy I’ve come to appreciate. My jaw is still aching.
