If you want tragicomedy that cuts deep – or, for that matter, a misery memoir – Darren Harriott has got the raw material for it. But that’s not what he chooses to deliver with his maiden solo show, Defiant. Yes, he alludes to his father’s drug-dealing, mental illness and suicide. But there are dozens of other subjects over this magpie hour. This isn’t a show about his troubled backstory, or about anything else. It’s just a calling card, proving – with plenty to spare – that the perky 29-year-old can write and deliver fine jokes and establish a cheery rapport with a crowd.
Which is no mean feat – even if I want a little more over an hour of standup. Structure, maybe – but there’s none here, as the Black Country man flits between vaguely related topics at the same rhythm from start to finish. Point of view? Well, there are a few, but only ever to get Harriott from set-up to punchline. And every contentious opinion expressed is immediately reversed. He’s a remainer, but now he supports Brexit. He’s a republican, but here’s an instance when he loves the Queen. Or “I voted for Corbyn – but I don’t believe in him, man.” I longed for him to pin his colours to a mast. But he’s very personable company and has some excellent routines – like the one about Rastafarianism (his dad’s religion), or the sweet gag about confusing his libido with his craving for a sandwich.
In that instance, it feels like Harriott has revealed something of himself. It happens again when he tells us about his work as a bouncer, or that he never hugs his mum. And these idiosyncratic moments make more impact than the unremarkable material on Trump, say, or British versus American police brutality. The show (award-nominated at the Edinburgh festival last year) feels, finally, like an introductory club set stretched to fit the hour-long slot. But it establishes Harriott’s bona fides, and whets the appetite for the deeper-digging shows to come.
At Soho theatre, London, until 27 January. Box office: 020-7478 0100.
