The only thing holding Ivo Graham back in previous shows was his own, well, restraint. The old Etonian (he never fails to mention it) has always been a fine joke writer and constructor of routines, with an identifiable, if familiar, persona – that of the Hugh Grant-alike awkward toff, dressing up his enfeeblement in decorous gentility. Graham just needed to let rip a bit – and he does so here (if only a bit), with a bigger-hitting set on new parenthood, which has been nominated for the Edinburgh Comedy award.
This is certainly his strongest hour – although in some ways it’s as interesting for what is withheld as revealed. It picks up the threads of his 2018 set, as he reports on the recent birth of his daughter. An anecdote about rapping on TV, trading heavily on his fogeyish tendencies, explains that the fee funded a luxury pram. We get tales of not-so-riveting banter at antenatal classes, and the lowdown on why his “family of squares” would prefer their newest member not to be a “bastard”.
It’s all delivered with Graham’s very English politesse. Strong feelings are smothered in courtliness; his aristo mores are served up for mockery. (“Can’t have a mum in a tatty gilet – not this close to Glyndebourne!”) Fair enough – write about what you know – although why their shared background means Graham can’t criticise Boris Johnson, as he asserts here, isn’t clear. There is, though, a droll routine about a day at play with Boris’s brother, elevated by Graham’s Rowan Atkinson-alike pronunciation of the word boules.
A more turbulent reality is hinted at beneath this jocular veneer. A pre-show voiceover implies misgivings about cannibalising one’s home life for comedy; a routine about the rigours of touring alludes to domestic difficulties. He says no more, as if torn between honesty and diplomacy, pivoting sharply back towards playful with an expansive act-out about dentistry. It’s a standout, shelving decorum at last, as the fibs he tells his dentist conjure a lurid fantasy of a “dental bloodbath”. We don’t get full disclosure here – but we get a very fine hour of standup.
• At Pleasance Courtyard, Edinburgh, until 25 August.
