Trevor Lock’s spinning plates act puts him in a different league to some bigger comics, writes Ben Clover.
But Trevor’s act is between four and ten times faster, making up in relentlessness what it loses in conventional gag-laugh, gag-laugh structure.
His speciality is endlessly unspooling streams of consciousness that build and build. They don’t climax though, they just keep going off at bigger and sillier tangents, like a tantric etch-a-sketcher.
But when he was in full swing it was like watching a proper artist. And by that I mean someone who actually can’t help themselves.
At the end of the hour the venue staff had to come in and make the “time’s up Trevor” face because he looked capable of sailing on for another hour just as successfully.
But Lock knows what he’s doing, his interactions with the audience were as fast and funny as anything else. And this was in front of a middle-aged, mostly sober, early-evening audience – somewhere cramped with hammered, student types he’d do better still.
Then at a point when you really don’t expect it there’s even a serious point. Coming near the end of a particularly swift bit it’s a surprise, and all the better, for being tossed off lightly rather than hammered home patronisingly – a habit of some of the bigger acts famous for “making a point”. He’s in a different league really.
The only criticism would be a flagging in pace at the end, plus my friend was disturbed by the accuracy of a mime he does during a section about a child’s goldfish bowl.
If this really is Mark Watson’s last year of doing a 24-hour show then maybe he should give the copyright to Lock, then we could see just how long he could keep spinning his verbal plates.
Trevor Lock – Some Kind of Fool is on until August 30 at 8pm at the GRV. Click here for tickets.