Mick Foley ‘Nights in Red Flannel’ Review

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Added by November 13, 2011

Journal Tyne Theatre, Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, 11/11/11

Heading to the wonderful Journal Tyne Theatre on a rainy evening after a greasy meal at Pizza Express with two sociable wrestling fans I just met, the question on our minds isn’t ”Will Foley be funny?”, it’s ”What was better, his match at Blast ’92 or Havoc ’93?” In no uncertain terms, the night is all about Mrs. Foley’s baby boy.

It’s easy to say that 90% of the people at the event were wrestling fans. Whether or not this means we had lowered expectations about the other comedians and were easily impressed is up for debate, but at the end of the day who cares. Comedy is comedy.


The compere for the evening was Chris Brooker. What’s a compere? According to Mr. Brooker it’s a mix between a fluffer and an assistant teacher (but he asks us not to think about that one too much). Chris did a fine job of warming the crowd up without overshadowing the other comedians and made it clear that he (and the other comedians) were happy as hell to not just be in a room full of wrestling fans like themselves, but also people with some sense (many Benwell, Wigan and Chorley jokes filled the night, the favourite being ”Chorley’s so far behind, they don’t trust racism”). To put things into perspective, Chris bust out the C-word two minutes into his set and the elderly couple next to me loved it.

Up next was slightly psychotic Scottish comedian Billy Kirkwood. Launching into his set at full-speed, Billy is welcomed by an audience on the same level as him. A crude, down to Earth wrestling fan with a sense of humour to match his excitement? Yeah, he’ll do. Wild-eyed and ”buzzing off his tits thanks to Red Bull”, Kirkwood (like Brooker) would later assist in Foley’s set, in his case  helping with re-enacting Chris Jericho asking for The Dynamite Kid’s autograph (”Don’t even fookin’ think about it”).

Local Legend Stephen Peddie immediately endures himself to the audience by explaining that he’s fat and Geordie but in no way to be confused with Mike Ashley. It’s refreshing to hear North-East jokes told by a genuine North-Eastern who doesn’t need to try and act the part. Spend time away from the North-East and tell people where you’re from and people assume ‘your kind’ live in caves and drink nothing but Brown Ale. Peddie’s self-demeaning jokes and and Northern wordplay (”I’m allergic to Chavs…burberry brings me out in a raj”) give him the ‘man you know in a pub who makes you spill your pint from pissing yourself’ feel to him.

”Yes, yes very good Maffew… now what about the reason I clicked on this damn link?” I hear you cry.

Mick walked on-stage to such a reaction you’d think we’d gone back in time and he’d won his first WWF title on Raw again. Foley filled his set with Al Snow jokes (”What’s the difference between Van Gogh and Al Snow? Van Gogh can draw a crowd.”), Tiger Woods stories, testicles, cheap pops, a retelling of the penis suplex story with visual aids from local wrestlers (with trousers on, I should add) and a finale involving Rocky and the Karate Kid that I could do no justice retyping here.

So what’s he like as a comedian? It’s fair to say Foley’s best strengths come from his story-telling abilities. Whereas the comedians beforehand tried to fit as many jokes and swear words into their brief stage-time as possible, Foley knew everybody was hanging on his every word and stretches every story he told for as long as possible. His timing is dead on (as expected from a guy who’s been talking to audience’s for decades), but people might not appreciate having to listen to a few long prog-rock tunes after having forty minutes of Ramones songs beforehand. Another issue I heard from some people was that his set consisted of ”too much re-telling of his books”.  This is a fair enough point, especially when many people had brought their copies to be signed by the man and held onto them the whole time throughout the evening. Foley said during the set that he wanted his tour to be as outsider-friendly as possible, which is fair enough if he’s performing at the Journal rather than the O2 Arena. He’s hedging his bets. I’ve read and re-read his books more times than I can count and I was still entertained listening to him re-tell these old stories.

The audience listened and applauded at the right times (all it took was a look from Foley to initiate the latter) and aside from a few drunk smarkish interruptions (dealt with by Foley playing Kurt Angle’s WWE Intro and encouraging the crowd to chant ”YOU SUCK” at whoever dared interrupt him). After the set, a brief Q ‘n’ A was started before being abruptly cut off because of going over schedule, but not before an excellent Jimmy ‘Superfly’ Snuka was told. It involved cocaine.

Afterwards, there was a meet and greet session which nearly everyone else stayed for. People complained about this, but it’s not Foley’s frigging fault he’s popular. It gave me a chance to natter to other fans too, the best comment coming from a female fan (oh fuck) who said she enjoyed Foley’s set but ”he had a body like an old woman”.  I’ll never unsee that.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0CPC9pi_LEs

So what can you expect from a night on the Red Flannel Tour? In terms of comedy, the opening acts were amazing, in terms of wrestling related entertainment Foley of course delivered. To the people who were unimpressed or felt slighted by Foley, I’d like to remind them that the man is forty-six and has had more concussions than a Christopher Nowinski essay…it’s amazing he’s able to remember he’s written the stories he’s telling in the first place.

Overall, I give it two (badly scarred) thumbs up.

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