The “only Scottish comedian in Cowgatehead” certainly has the right chip on his shoulder at an arts festival where native voices sometimes get drowned out. But if Jennings’ is intimidated by the Home Counties’ chaps and chapesses that make up his venue-mates, then it doesn’t show in this enjoyable stand-up set.
Jentrification is just “one of those pun title things that people do”. Jennings knows nothing of it, being stuck living with his parents in hipster-free Clydebank. But he does know the peculiar pains of being a full-grown high-functioning adult stuck in what seems like terminal minimum wage, nil prospect limbo and this forms the bulk of his set.
You kind of wish he’d look a little more wound up by it, because the call centre torture of monitored toilet breaks and humourless bosses that he puts across very well could certainly drive a man deranged. If he was screaming this at us in desperation, it wouldn’t be out of place. But Jennings is a mellow dude whose tone is more of resignation. It’s the same with his brief forays into politics. It’s decent material but he does doesn’t work up a head of steam about it.
He keeps everything within certain bounds. A couple of lines about Andrew Marr‘s stroke could potentially ruffle a few feathers, but given his style they land without too much intake of breath. He’s not a confrontational comic, but looks like he would drop some more edgy stuff in if he thought he could get away with it.
He checks his notes a couple of times, suggesting he’s still juggling some of the material, but it doesn’t impact on the quality. The best chunk is where he tells his driving instructor he’s quitting in a way that takes car parts and turns them into relationship metaphors. There’s probably scope for expanding this with an additional few lines to make it a real centrepiece. With solid performances like this, you’d hope Jennings won’t be in call centre hell for long.