Richard Gadd had a sleeper hit last year with Cheese and Crack Whores, a broad multimedia comedy about his post-breakup descent into psychosis. Its follow-up, Breaking Gadd, clings tightly to the same template. Its virtues and flaws are similar, too. It’s wholly committed to its squalid vision, and the depths of indignity to which Gadd’s character is propelled spur moments of sharp tragicomedy. But the ignominy and depravity get predictable: it’s a cartoon misery memoir, which isn’t cartoon-ish enough, or credibly miserable enough, to quite hit its marks.
It’s also obsessed with gay sex. Three times in the first half-hour, Gadd gets molested or threatened with molestation by predatory gay men – which is presented as hilarious. One of the men is his therapist: Gadd has been knocked unconscious on the streets of Edinburgh, and the show traces his efforts, via regression therapy, to recover his lost memories. Flashback by flashback, we return to Gadd’s childhood, where he’s to be found consoling his junkie dad, interrupting his mum while she is hard at her prostitute’s work, and blowing his brother’s brains out when a hunting trip goes wrong.
Once you’ve become wise to Gadd’s zeal for debasement, which doesn’t take long, none of these dialogues (the other characters are played by prerecorded voices) contain any surprises. They ratchet up the indignity, but aren’t notable for their wit. I wish Gadd would offset the blackness with a few other colours. When, infrequently, he does so, there are big payoffs – witness the out-of-nowhere Mrs Brown’s Boys gag. He’s also got a comically expressive face and great timing: there’s a choice moment when he makes to spit a mouthful of beer at his antagonist (and sponsor) Kurt, then changes tack. Gadd’s comedy of degradation isn’t without its pleasures, but they’re mainly of the two-dimensional variety.
• Until 20 December. Box office: 020-7478 0100. Venue: Soho theatre, London W1.
