Tom Allen

The title of Tom Allen’s new festival offering leads one to expect something at least a little bit Freudian. And from the opening confessional, that seems to be ground the immaculately suited and sprightly comic plans to cover.

Unfortunately, these hopes are dashed as Allen follows a less introspective route and you start to feel less like his psychiatrist and more like a dinner party guest – a party with Tom Allen in the corner holding court. So far, so very civilised, and all enhanced by the range of potted plants sitting just behind the comic.

Despite the title, there is not a great deal about the comedian’s mother in the act, although his gender bending impersonations of his parents do provide an appropriately madcap background to Allen’s own perfectly turned-out persona. He also manages to pull off adept and playful audience interaction, which gets a few good laughs from his heat-stricken crowd.

However, this approach eventually starts to become tired, and the delivery fails to completely obscure the lack of a truly hilarious joke amongst all the little tales. After being part of a successful double act last year, it seems that Allen might still benefit from something to counter-balance the stream of narrative. His show may make for an enjoyable evening, but if you want to pull muscles laughing then something a little more barbarous might be necessary. Still, if you are thinking about who to invite round for dinner, then he might be just the man for the job.