PEOPLE love the horrible comedy!”Stewart Lee admitted in an interview for the Oxford Times ahead of his week-long run which began at the Oxford Playhouse on Monday.
And so it proved.

One of the many highlights of his new show, Stewart Lee vs the Man-Wulf, was the moment when the (in his own words) politically correct, liberal elite comedian morphed into a callous, American, right-wing comic, monetising the denigration of minorities for
“a $60 million Netflix deal”.

It looked like he was enjoying every minute of it, despite the heat of the werewolf costume. Particularly the chance to generate a new catchphrase which is far too rude to print in a family newspaper

The only part that I can safely mention is a demand for a sandwich, expressed in the most explicit tone.
It’s a role he’s played before to great effect in short bursts, parodying brash US comies and their one-note, aggressive approach to stand-up. And he was pitch perfect, channelling the likes of Dave Chappell and the UK’s own Ricky Gervais for a segment strewn with gags that punched distinctly downwards.
So much so that I wondered if some of the less experienced Lee-watchers in the audience might start cheering for the Man-Wulf, in the same way that sitcom favourite Alf Garnett was seen by some as a hero rather than the bigoted villain that his creator intended.
So has Lee created a monster?
Err, no. What he has created, though, is his most consistently hilarious show since… well,
I’m not sure he’s ever been funnier.

Die hard fans will be familiar with the themes and techniques on show, and the audience was mockingly given a hard time throughout for not meeting his notoriously high standards.
“You can’t come in late to my shows,” he chides some unlucky tardy souls. “It’s like reading Ulysses by opening it halfway through.”
We’re treated to his usual highly structured framework, masquerading as a shambles, with Lee treading the line between arrogance, disappointment and sympathy with the crowd – most of whom realise that this is part of his regular stage persona.
The opening gives the impression of being improvised, with Lee trundling onstage in a large overcoat and scarf, reminiscent of Eric Morecambe, to explain the set-up, while performing his top-of-the-show topical jokes, scraps of paper in hand.
Then we’re in for several shows in one: first, Lee in his now familiar Teddy Boy jacket delivering his classic stand-up and musing on the reactionary nature of so much of today’s entertainment; after the break he transforms into the Man-Wulf (courtesy of a yarn about being bitten on Bodmin Moor; plenty of dry ice, a new showbiz backdrop, and the aforementioned werewolf costume); and finally as a woke, liberal version of the Man-Wulf, delivering jokes in the same aggressive manner but this time punching up, not down, taking aim at Elon Musk, Donald Trump and their ilk.

Oh yeah, and there’s also a Bob Dylanesque guitar ballad, and a tiny set of lupine genitalia.
Confused? You won’t be. It all makes perfect sense.
Along the way there are digs at Gregg Wallace, whose moon-shaped face plays a prominent role, Russell Brand, and an enlightening tale about a beating he received from Michael Mcintyre’s late manager in front of Barbara Windsor at the BAFTAs.
“I looked like she thought it was the worst thing she had ever seen,” he said. “And she was married to one of the Krays!” The verbal dexterity is sharper than ever; and the ambition to explore ideas is extraordinary.
As Lee told this paper: “This show is asking
‘do jokes and speech have consequences?’
“One of the things that’s great about standup is that it’s a mainstream genre that people think they like. Within that, it’s extremely flexible.
“You can bring in things from the avant garde and from the experimental and political satire, you can bring in narrative and all sorts of things that people don’t necessarily think are in stand-up.”
Indeed you can. And a dinky wolf penis too.
Now make me that effin’ sandwich! 5/5