Rob Delaney

The US comic puts intriguing spins on icky subject matter, but comes off as Louis CK-lite
Let’s just get this out of the way straight off the bat. There is literally no way to avoid writing about Rob Delaney without drawing comparison to Louis CK: and ultimately, it comes down on the side of an unfavourable one. Delaney moseys on (in plain t-shirt and plainer jeans), delivers a faux-offensive intro and goes on to discuss life with two small children. Familiar enough yet? This pair of Massachusetts boys even have a story each about sitting doing a dump while one of their offspring looks on.
They both seem to have quite a thing about masturbation (but then, which male stand-up doesn’t?) but Delaney’s material just comes across as weaker. He does, however, delve much deeper into his darker side, finding jokes in the true-life tale of him breaking both arms during the drink-driving incident just over a decade ago which led to his imprisonment and a decision to lay off the booze for good.
While he does journey down some potentially hack avenues (how porn was so different pre-internet; a woman’s body post-birth), he does have intriguing spins on them and his willingness to excavate very icky imagery (much of which seemed to revolve around babies, for Freud’s sake), even had the sulky stage minders smirking.
Underbelly, Bristo Square, 0844 545 8252, until 21 Aug, 7pm, £19.50 (£18.50).