We had a fun night, says Seann Walsh – “but not as fun as if I hadn’t turned up”. The joke is that Walsh – middle-aged, grumpy, permanently tired – hates obligation (“Having to do anything,” he says, “ruins everything”), and is never more excited than when something gets called off. On balance, I was happy that Walsh had turned up, even if the quality of that routine isn’t sustained in a show that sees the Brightonian return to type as the dust settles on his recent tabloid notoriety.
For better or worse, that episode, which saw him branded a “Strictly love rat” and accused by his ex of coercive control, did lead to the richest and most reflective comedy of Walsh’s career. His new show, Back from the Bed, feels like a backwards step. Yes, there are standout routines and choice coinages, as when the 37-year-old scorns twentysomethings idly wondering what they’re gonna do, what they’re gonna be. “There is no do or be!,” rages our host, surveying the bin-fire of hope they call middle-age.
