Paul Foot is a comedian as drawn in crayon by a drunk teenager who has never seen stand-up comedy but has had the concept explained to them by a toddler. A man in a tie with a weird haircut who speaks in a strange voice and says funny things.
The important thing there is that Paul Foot isn’t a comedian that tells jokes – he says funny things. Very odd, very funny things. He isn’t interested in why you laugh just that you do laugh, and he succeeds in speculator fashion this year.
Words isn’t about words, I suspect Foot simply needed a name, it could well have just been called Title. Words is Paul Foot’s world view for an hour and it’s very silly stuff. His approach to comedy is to sneak up behind a joke and cover its eyes while whispering “guess who” in its ear.
He has an exuberance and a cheeky grin that begs for you to follow along on his voyage of absurdity. Foot’s shambolic approach at first may appear amateurish but it hides a sharp mind. He playfully tackles racism and homophobia with a feather light touch but it was when he went off script and took on a drunken heckler that he really took flight. Paul Foot is like no comedian you have ever seen, a perennial festival favourite.
BY JACK FRANKLIN
