Stand-up comedians often do self-deprecation. Tim Batts, on at the Propeller Stage at BATS, does self-deprecation to the max. To a small audience, he remarks on the too large stage he didn’t ask for, the empty front row and the fact that the audience gets placed above the performer. There’s some very nice business with the microphone before he gets stuck into us. 

“Never do politics in the first ten minutes,” he warns, and this is only the first piece of taking-the-piss information we get on the job of the stand-up.

In a fast delivery, we hear a dissertation on lamb chops, an unusual take on Michael Jackson, and the best penis joke this reviewer has ever heard.

Batt’s concluding story about a visit from a religious nut when he had a Monday morning hangover is sheer delight. That he floored her by making a fifth form grammatical observation is divine.

Batt admits he doesn’t know what the audience takeaway is for his show. I’m just glad that despite having supportive, caring parents – the worst possible beginning point for a stand-up evidently – he’s turned into the engaging, essentially human performer he is. 

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