A couple of months ago, we were at the Bloomsbury Theatre waiting for our show to be called. During this time, I usually wander through the internal corridors of the venue, admiring the old posters of stand-up shows past—Julian Clary’s iconic “Joan Collins Fan Club” on one wall, the ’90s stylings of Mel & Sue on another. Then, I came to one that caused me to pause as it instantly transported me back to my early teenage years: a poster for Sean Hughes.

Sean Hughes won the Perrier Award in 1990 but is probably best remembered for ‘Sean’s Show’, a mockumentary/sitcom way ahead of its time, and as one of the original team captains on ‘Never Mind the Buzzcocks’. His time on NMTB ended in 2002, capping an incredible period that included sold-out tours, two books, and a stand-up special broadcast on Channel 4. To say that Sean left his mark on the ’90s is like saying the Roman Army ‘got about a bit’.

There are hundreds of clips of Sean available, but I was looking for a full-length routine. That’s when I found “Thirty Somehow”, the Channel 4 special from 1995 celebrating Sean’s 30th birthday. It’s criminally under-viewed, so I have embedded the routine below this review — which I should really get on with…

Our comedian walks out to rapturous applause, but things don’t start particularly well: over time the topical opening understandably doesn’t work as well thirty years on, but it feels like Sean knew it lacked edge even then. But stick with it through the opening ten minutes, and you’ll begin to see why he’s fondly remembered. There’s a moment where Sean takes a good glug of his Guinness, sparks up a cigarette, and, in his take on audience interaction, offers a lady in the front row a drag — which she gladly accepts.

This seems to settle Sean, and his material begins to reveal the free-flowing, absurdist gags for which he became well known. I really felt the shift on a gag about how he was above the “cool kids” at school because he used to ride his bike behind the tobacconists — it’s a thinker.

At times, our comedian seems reluctant to build an atmosphere, likely due to his incredibly casual style, with some lines barely more than a mumble. Instead of adjusting his flow, he waits for the audience to find his pace. His performance feels like a conversation, which may be why some clever lines don’t get the recognition they deserve. Watching it back years later, it’s clear that not all the laughs land in the right places, which must have been incredibly frustrating for him.

We blitz through routines at a pace, with some of the best punchlines being the ones that throw the audience a massive curveball, completely unrelated to the story he has just told. Even the dated material in the second half, such as his take on vegetarians, is silly enough to still elicit a laugh. This show is still worth a watch, and the short encore, hidden within the end credits, includes quick takes on Blur, Pulp, and Oasis — don’t miss it.

In closing, I’ll leave you with a quote from Sean’s sign-off: “I’d like to thank God for fucking up my life and, at the same time, not existing. Quite a special skill that.”

Clown Stars: * * * *

@Festival Pavilion, Skegness