‘What was your favourite lockdown?’
Tim Key is a man of many talents. Comedy. Poetry. He’s a man of two talents. During lockdown, he combined these two disciplines for a pair of books that chronicled life during a global pandemic. He Used Thought as a Wife was the first of two lockdown books, and it is not hyperbolic of me to say that it was one of the key pieces of pop culture that enabled me to navigate the choppy waters of lockdown one. Along with Bo Burnham’s Inside, Key’s lockdown poetry provided a terrifying glimpse into the dark side of isolation. Crucially, they were also both utterly hilarious. Turning He Used Thought as a Wife and its companion piece Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush into a live show is a risky proposition. Does anyone want to return to those dark days of social distancing and bubbles now that the lockdowns appear to be over? In Key’s tender and capable hands, the answer is a resounding yes…
True to form, Key bucks convention by appearing on stage with no introduction with the house lights on, people chatting and moving around, and music playing loudly over the speakers. Rather than start the show, he prefers to amble round the stage muttering to himself and occasionally nodding or smiling at someone in the crowd. The actual start of the show is signalled by Key appearing on a balcony and ringing a bell. A refrigerator (stocked with can after can of Beaverton Neck Oil – “the sponsor of lockdown one”) and a huge front door adorn the stage, and soft music plays in the background. Early on, Key enlists the help of a man from the front row to hand him his beer from time to time (“bit quicker…” Key intones when the beer isn’t immediately thrust into his hand) and begins ‘working’ the crowd. This hilarious pastiche of crowd interaction sees Key repeatedly ask where people spent lockdown. “Classic” he muses when everyone invariable answers “at home”.
For anyone unfamiliar with Key’s performance style, it veers between lunatic standing at the bar and sharp-eyed poetic genius, often within the same breath. He reads some of his lockdown poems written on a set of playing cards that he contemptuously tosses to the ground when finished. Key’s style is so natural that is often difficult to ascertain where one poem begins and another one ends, especially as he will often throw in an aside halfway through (“I was in a particularly dark place when I wrote this one”).
Now, I’ve seen many comedians over the years, but I’ve never heard laughter like this from any audience. It is sometimes difficult to hear some of Key’s utterances over the guffawing of the crowd and it is a testament to his talents that in a show that lasts over an hour, the only let-up is the various moments of emotional resonance as our hero reflects on the physical and mental toll lockdown took on all of us. In these moments, Key will often step away from the mic to scream and wail, or to open another can from the everpresent and reliable fridge – an appliance that took on huge importance when none of us could leave our houses. Indeed, it comes into particular focus when Key casually asks the beer holder in the front row to “pop” him on the fridge. The man, understandably baffled, takes to the stage and eventually gives Key a leg up to his chosen perch. Later, Key produces his Perrier Award from the same appliance. Good on him.
Perhaps the funniest bit of the night is the recounting of a moment in lockdown one in which Key was watching an episode of Pointless, only to find himself bottom of the list in the category of ‘Famous Tims’. His sheer incredulity at this turn of events is delicious and it perfectly captures Key’s mix of faux arrogance and knowing self-deprecation.
The evening ends as it began, with Key waxing lyrical from atop a balcony only now there is a huge teddy bear on stage to the right of him. It’s a suitably absurd end to an incredible show.