High-octane, incisive stand-up
The largest performance space at Woolwich Works is located in a former fireworks factory. All scuffed floors and exposed brickwork, it offers a very different form of craftsmanship and spectacle tonight. Russell Kane, Sarah Keyworth and Tadiwa Mahlunge take to the stage, adeptly compered by Amy Gledhill. What follows is an evening of exciting, intelligent stand-up.
Russell Kane’s headline performance sets a frenetic pace that never relents, zipping about the stage like a bluebottle under a glass. One half giddy toddler, and the other embittered comic, both the pace of Kane’s delivery and the vulgarity of his imagery give the BSL interpreter (onstage for all of the acts) a run for their money.
Kane’s set is a series of laugh-out-loud rants held together by the physicality of his performance, ranging from gentle parenting to a scathing takedown of Gregg Wallace. The performance is at its best when the chaos gives way to sharply observed social commentary. Kane makes intelligent points about 18-25-year-olds swerving live comedy, and the case for primary school sex education, even while poking fun at the pretentiousness of those who find him “clever”.
Sarah Keyworth’s set closing out the first half is a real treat, offering a fresh take on the well-trodden themes of identity and sexuality. A particularly funny segment about their recent experience of top surgery has even the BSL interpreter cracking up onstage. Keyworth’s clear command of the medium facilitates some excellent crowd work, and they get big laughs from a couple who met whilst performing at the 2012 Olympic Opening Ceremony. An unfortunate Freudian slip calling their girlfriend “mum” shows their humanity, and is milked for additional laughs. Keyworth paints hilarious images, describing what it would be like to be non-binary on the Titanic, and a disbelieving bartender doubting both age and gender – both delivered with great hilarity.
Tadiwa Mahlunge’s set is more awkward, centering on feeling out of place – living in Croydon as “the black boy from the uni prospectus”, and being in an interracial couple. His sharpest observations are about transitioning from finance into comedy, industries equally awash with cocaine, particularly his spreadsheet “hack” for office small talk. But a number of jokes follow predictable rhythms, and his pop-culture references feel dated and forced. A final segment on Ukraine is missing a satirical edge, failing to justify its place in the set.
Amy Gledhill – still overawed at having taken the ferry to get here – is tasked with holding the show together. Always good value, she warms up the crowd ably and somehow finds three separate alumni of Hull University this far south! Her infectious enthusiasm for the evening propels the show forward, and a very funny story about open-mic burlesque is no less effective for its repetition from the Greenwich Comedy Festival this summer.
Comedy crowds thrive on intimacy, feeling like you’re sharing something a little bit naughty. This vast factory floor – inexplicably laid out in a wide but shallow seating arrangement – is not the ideal venue. There are a few mic issues for Kane’s set, and the show is 15 minutes late to start. But Gledhill’s buoyant energy, Keyworth’s command of the stage, and Kane’s high-energy social commentary make for a thoroughly engaging evening. This is an event to watch out for in the future.
Live at the Works will return with regular shows in 2026.