Starting an hour late (due to a stuck train) Tony Law arrived in an insanely festooned onesie to a rapturous reception and rode that energy with his trademark verve. While other performers have been labelled ‘surreal’ often this seems arch and affected. Law is the real deal. Each leap of logic and non sequitur is sincere. When he attempts run of the mill crowd work he physically can’t make the words come out in the right order; jumbling simple requests for people’s names and professions.

Who else could sell an extended interpretive dance with beachball, never mind make it so funny it brought tears to my eyes? If this section was the comic centrepiece of the show, his routine about the family dog would be its heart. It’s a real departure from Law’s flights of fancy, and according to him it’s an attempt to connect to people who ‘don’t go to arts centres’. It’s a touching story, largely embellishment free, and Law was vulnerable in a way I hadn’t seen before. It did, however, have some grisly details borne from Law’s time working in a slaughterhouse and one audience member stood up halfway through and tried to start a vegetarian revolution. The crowd was not behind her.

Tony Law is an acquired taste. If you can get on his frequency then his brand of nonsense will leave you gasping for air in a good way. Law himself said that he pitied anyone coming to see him who didn’t know what they were letting themselves in for and he’s right. Even if he does decide to go slightly more mainstream and do more straightforward storytelling, as he did here, the passion and verve still shine through. Law must be seen to be believed.

Paul Manderlay