If there was going to be someone to reinvigorate the chatshow, of course it would be Joe Lycett. Right from its hectically surreal opening titles, his new Friday-night Channel 4 show Late Night Lycett harks back to the zany charm of grassroots, Boosh-era television. Surprised-looking pigeons and grainy rainbow emojis whorl across a psychedelic graphic, culminating with retina-shattering neon letters grandly displaying the phrase “LIVE FROM BIRMINGHAM” – an instant chuckle, and a perfect elevator pitch for Lycett’s knowing, ironic sense of humour. “Hello, you bastards!” he yells, from amid a crowd of drag queens.
With a commanding presence, Lycett makes it immediately clear that he is the star. He’s the driver of this runaway train, sparkling cogs and wheels pinging off in unpredictable directions. His audience is all seated or stood on one level in a twinkling, labyrinthine space at historic Birmingham venue The Bond, which gives more of a 2am Edinburgh fringe showcase vibe than network chatshow. It makes the whole thing feel all the more ad-hoc, fresh and dangerous – no bad thing in a world where Jimmy Fallon is currently grinning his way waxily to the 2,000th episode of The Tonight Show.
The guests on this week’s show include Daisy May Cooper, David Harewood, Greg James and Rylan Clark, and if the results are anything like last week’s show, it should make for brilliant television. His two aunties, Margaret and Pauline, joined his interviewees on set, grinning with pride, looking for all the world like they’ve shown up to his first school play. Lycett does such a great job of putting his guests at ease that Joanna Lumley starts philosophising on Patsy’s gender identity and Alan Carr begins to pole dance.
Lycett hosts in a way that makes his know-how immediately apparent. He references Twitter porn and hun culture with educational aplomb barely five minutes into the first episode. But while embracing the modern, his respect for those who came before him is clear – particularly significant in light of recent news is the poster of Lily Savage on the stage behind him, eyebrow arched and lips pursed, watching from a cloud of hairspray – a tucked, plucked guardian angel. He ended last week’s show with a touchingly sincere “this one’s for Paul O’Grady”.
When things get too sentimental, Lycett is careful to come back down to earth with a jaw-dropping bump. “My aunties are absolute gutter trash,” he says, looking over at them, eliciting a gasp from Lumley. “You’re a brat,” she says.
It sets the tone for a show in which guests are equally charmed and intimidated by their scrappy young host, a feel reminiscent of the early days of Graham Norton. Some Norton nuggets are borrowed, too, such as plying guests with beverages and having audience members recount embarrassing stories.
The results are excellent. Watching Lumley try a Greggs vegan sausage roll for the first time was always going to be good television (“see the steam rising!”). As was Alison Hammond spanking a drag queen with gusto, and Claire Sweeney doing an unhinged Supermarket Sweep in Lycett’s local corner shop via live video link as its perturbed owner, Hardeep, watched on from the studio audience. “I can’t believe Joanna didn’t want Monster Munch!” Sweeney squeals, careening down the crisp aisle in a denim jumpsuit. “I feel like I’ve been taking meth,” says Lycett, chuckling like Dr Frankenstein at this bellowing, wild-eyed monster of a show he’s created.
It’s all charming goof, but there’s still room for some of the sharp satire he built his reputation on. A segment called Straight Talking is a highlight, a merciless sendup of media platforms like GB News. Alan Carr has been drafted in to take part in the farce, and freezes halfway through his autocued script with a shocked “what the fuck?!” Lycett’s current comedic muse, Liz Truss, is present too – not in person but in papier-mache form, with a set of references throughout the night. It’s a theme that seems set to be a weekly instalment, although the joke risks becoming tired and bullying.
But Lycett will likely knock even that out of the park. His confident presence, paired with a knowledge spanning everything from meme culture and drag legends to local takeaways and world news, make him a formidable force. If anyone can bring the classic late-night chatshow cackling and screaming back into the zeitgeist, it’s him. We’re bored of Baby Yoda and even slightly sick of Succession. Time for something newer, riskier and sillier.
Late Night Lycett airs on Friday nights at 10pm on Channel 4 and is also available on All 4.
