For Valentine’s Day, I bought Alex and I tickets to watch Omid Djalili at Komedia in Bath. Arriving early with our friends to avoid the lengthy queue and to be able to choose our seats, I was looking forward to seeing what Komedia was really like. It’s one of those places I’ve gone past practically every day in Bath and yet never been to. It didn’t disappoint.
After having a giant Komedia stamp printed on our wrists, we had the whole of downstairs to choose where to sit for the evening. We ended up sat on a table, which I thought was very comedy club-esque, and I was amazed at how big the venue was. It used to be a theatre so the balcony and intricate ceiling were still in tact.
Djalili’s warm up act was a guy called Boothby Gruffoe. He sang a number of comedy songs with his guitar and loop pedal, including one about a waving woman and another that started off as a love song, but quickly changed to something a bit weirder. He was really funny and I’d see him again. What was nice was how apparent it was that he and Omid are good friends.
Then it was time for the main event. I’ve always been a fan of Omid Djalili and recently was impressed with his performance in Dickensian, so I had high expectations. He covered a broad range of subjects, including cancer, ISIS, immigration, race, oh, and Fearne Cotton. An odd mix on paper but something that worked so well on stage. I laughed until my jaw ached, and then some more.
Overall, the night was brilliant; great venue and great acts. I’d definitely go there again and see the acts again, so I’m already scouring Komedia’s site to see what we can go to next. One word of warning though, learned from watching a boy in the front row: if Omid catches you on your phone during his performance, don’t be surprised if he yells out, “You’re not at home in front of your TV, you twat!”