“General rabble-rouser, alleged comedian”. That’s the description attributed to Mark Thomas by the Metropolitan Police Service and it’s one he embraces with relish. Now over 50 years old, Thomas takes a childish delight in subverting societal conventions and “sticking it to the man” in the pettiest of manners, having dedicated a year of his life to committing the 100 acts which give the show its title.
Thankfully, Thomas met his challenge and thus avoided the self-imposed forfeit of donating £1,000 to UKIP, one of the principle bête noires which will be subjected to a tongue-lashing over the course of the two-and-a-half-hour show. More importantly, the completion of the challenge meant that the show itself was able to exist; had Thomas not reached his centenary goal, there would be very little to draw the packed-out crowd that fills the Traverse on this occasion.
While Thomas doesn’t delve into every single of one his minor misdemeanours, he does treat us to a highlights reel of his year-long exploits, including a tutorial on how to book heckle, a campaign for Tesco to ban him from their stores and an innovative method of dealing with junk mail. While many of his stunts sound like they wouldn’t be out of place on a show like Just for Laughs, there is a deeper political and sociological message to all of his antics which impart a sense of gravitas to the frivolity.
Indeed, herein lies the real heart of the show. Through his protests and his petty acts of dissent, Thomas has managed to effect real change in certain areas. For example, his actions have led to the adoption of a living wage by the Curzon Cinema chain (making them the first to do so in London), while he has also succeeded in curbing the powers of PSPOs (Public Space Protection Orders) in the capital. For all the deeds which seem to be inconsequential and trivial, these small successes show the power that can be wielded by idle thumbs and determined minds.
Of course, a show (and perhaps even a whole life) that appears to have been inspired entirely by the Li’l Bastard General Mischief Kit belonging to Bart Simpson is always going to contain an undercurrent of juvenility running throughout. This comes to a head in the closing stages, when Thomas insists on reeling off a list of 476 swear words for no other apparent purpose than to have his sign language interpreter flounder at their speed and innovation (which, in all honesty, rather defeats the purpose of the interpreter in the first place). But if you’re a fan of your left-wing activism with plenty of puerile gags, Thomas will undoubtedly be right up your street.