Review: Rob Beckett’s Giraffe at Home of the Arts

Review by Regan Baker

On the final stop of his Australian tour, Rob Beckett had the crowd on side before he’d even reached the microphone; an impressive feat for the UK’s sixth-richest comedian, especially considering half the audience were still wondering why the show was called Giraffe and not Teeth.

While introductions hardly seem necessary, Beckett is best described as the bloke-next-door of British comedy. Known for his turns on Would I Lie to You, 8 Out of 10 Cats, and Rob and Romesh Vs, he’s been a fixture on the international comedy circuit for years. Loud, loveable, and completely (and often accidentally) unfiltered, Beckett’s trademark grin and tangent-fuelled storytelling collide in Giraffe to create 80-minutes of pure, chaotic joy.

As someone who’s followed Beckett for years but had never seen him live, I was struck by how down-to-earth he is on stage. No grand entrance, no overblown setup - just 32 sparkly whites, a microphone, and a string of stories that had the sold-out Gold Coast crowd in stitches. It felt less like a polished comedy show and more like a mate down at the pub telling you stories about his wife and kids that he probably (definitely) shouldn’t be sharing.

Giraffe is Beckett through and through. Honest, a bit chaotic, and ridiculously relatable. He talks about growing up in what he calls a “blended family” (because even broken homes have had a PC-rebranding), swears he’ll never get divorced because “it’s too much admin,” and manages to turn every ordinary situation into a perfectly ridiculous observation. It’s the kind of storytelling that makes you laugh because you’ve either lived it or know someone who has.

One of the best parts of the night was how easily Beckett tapped into Aussie life. He’s clearly done his homework, calling out our obsession with early starts and our national inability to stay open past sunset. “Everything shuts early! Dinner past 8? Nuh! Even Dreamworld kicked us out by 4:30!” he joked, shaking his head in disbelief. The crowd roared. It’s always refreshing when an international comic actually gets us, and Beckett nailed it.

A quick personal gripe - I can’t stand intervals in comedy. Eighty-minutes doesn’t need a break. The first few minutes of every comedy show is a bit of a dance; feeling out the audience to try and test the vibe. A couple of quick quips, a bit of getting-to-know-you with the crowd, and slowly blending into the routine once the levels are dialled in. By interval, we were locked in – then it was lights up. After getting your drink, shuffling around the foyer and lining up for the bathroom, the momentum (like the people) had dispersed. By the time you come back and sit down, it takes a few minutes to rebuild what was already working. Comedy is about rhythm, and it felt like an unnecessary pause in an otherwise cracking good show. 

That being said, Beckett is a seasoned professional and picked things back up effortlessly. Continuing his routine that heavily leant on his family life, and the totally relatable dealings with ones aging parents, my gripe of the interval was quickly forgotten. His sharp timing and self-deprecating wit are what makes his humour as smooth as his dad’s expensive British butter. 

Like the show’s namesake, Giraffe is tall, a little clumsy, unpredictable, and while teetering between grace and outright chaos, still stood head and shoulders above the rest.

Image Supplied