
Given Adam Kay’s former career as a medical doctor, I wonder whether informing you that I laughed so hard that I nearly died with laughter during his show would affect his reputation in an undesirable manner. But then, he is no longer registered with the General Medical Council (a change of career, y’see, rather than negligence of duty or breach of regulations), so it is not, as Kay himself somewhat ruefully observes, as if he could be struck off a register he is no longer on. This being an unassuming central London crowd, the show’s title, Fingering A Minor on the Piano, was hardly going to cause offence. For the record, I found nothing offensive in this fast-paced comedy hour, though it is not for the faint of heart – there was the occasional groan. Certain punchlines elicited such a response, not because they were poor, but because they had more than a modicum of surprise.
Kay has a lot of stories to tell about working life on various hospital wards. Rightly, individual patients have been anonymised. He breaks a general guideline about public speaking in over-relying on notes, reading directly from previous diary entries as though making specific legal points in court. But given the level of detail involved, this was perfectly understandable, and ensured the show maintained its momentum. I’ve seen household name comedians perform live who have dried up mid-story, forced to admit they’d forgotten a key point, blustering and cursing until they were able to recall precisely what they intended to say. If Kay wants to have everything written down so absolutely nothing is missed, I have no complaints about that, although I couldn’t quite fathom how he found the time to write a diary at the time, taking into consideration the number of hours he was working.
The hilarity is in the detail. Some recounted tales are succinct, such as one where a woman complained about coloured spots on her tongue: “Diagnosis: taste buds.” But even the longer stories are relatively brief. Regular music interludes break up what might otherwise have been an attack on the senses with story after story. There are opportunities for some audience participation thrown in (though I hasten to add that this does not require anyone to leave their seats) and the usual banter with those fortunate or unfortunate enough to find themselves seated on the front row.
Kay’s response to the dispute between junior doctors and the Government was well considered, well balanced and well argued, categorically stating, for instance, that he did not want the current Secretary of State for Health, Jeremy Hunt MP, to ‘get cancer’ or anything of the sort. Aside from fighting fire with fire, it is, Kay argued, against the nature of a medical professional to spend their working hours helping people only to wish harm on someone else. On a personal note I was pleased at the acknowledgement that politicians lie, and lie regularly, whether left or right wing (“There will be a next time”).
There are parodies of chart music tunes galore. If your knowledge of popular music is as rudimentary as mine, there’s still much to be enjoyed in the alternative lyrics. Even I recognised the Lionel Richie tune ‘Easy’ in a song about the effects of chain smoking: “I’m wheezy on Sunday morning.” Take That’s ‘Patience’ was transformed into a tune about child patients (geddit?) who “cry-y- y-y- y” , though my favourite was a Gilbert and Sullivan-style patter song with medical terminology recited at breakneck speed.
This is a compelling and passionate show, as much of an education into what’s really going on in the healthcare sector today as it is a fun-filled hour of hysterical anecdotes.
Review by Chris Omaweng
Adam Kay sits at a grand piano and sings ‘bracingly intelligent, enormously funny songs’ (Times). In the key of A minor.
In this brand new collection of wonderfully off-kilter music and stand-up, Adam Kay is in reflective mood – taking a look back at his former job as a hospital doctor.
With sell-out tours and sell-out Edinburgh Fringe seasons, his cutting-edge, darkly humorous re-imaginings of modern day pop and rock classics have gained him a cult following throughout the UK.
He is the frontman of Amateur Transplants, with over 20 million YouTube hits (including the iconic London Underground Song). He has sold out seven years at Edinburgh, is a regular voice on Radio 4’s Now Show, and a prolific sitcom writer (BBC1, BBC2, BBC3, C4).
But before all that he was a doctor, and he’d like to tell you all about it.
ADAM KAY: FINGERING A MINOR ON THE PIANO
Mon 3 Apr – Sat 15 Apr 2017, 9.30pm
Soho Downstairs
http://www.sohotheatre.com/