Matt Richardson: Brash – Komedia Brighton

As he takes to the stage, Matt Richardson warns us that he was once described by a scowling teacher, when he was aged just seven, as an acquired taste. Does this ring true now he’s a thirty-something standing on a stage?

For this reviewer, not that she can see. Matt Richardson has mass appeal. There’s a bit of an air of a naughtier, early era Russell Howard here. That moment when he was on the cusp of big fame and at his absolute funniest. As always with this sort of talent, it feels like a real privilege to be catching them in an intimate room like the Komedia Studio, which always secures the best line-ups in the city.

Sure, the content gets a little spicy for your average village Facebook group. There are many minutes dedicated to the lengths you need to go to for stealthy self-handling, and a nod to do-nots for the opposite sex. But, well, what do you expect, going to a show called Brash? If it is indeed brash, it’s also bloody brilliant. This Friday night audience certainly don’t seem to mind.

We’re given an introduction to Oxfordshire village life – from the upper class massiv, to obscure animals (ft. fascist cats). The absolute freedom of adulthood – as long as you have your partner’s permission. The realities of being on telly and how a neurodiversity diagnosis can come from the most unexpected of places. Richardson’s world is simultaneously pleasingly familiar and also, well, a little peculiar. Which is part of the fun for the audience.

In the front row, there’s a parade of mums with just one of their sons, who is in his late teens, butting in on the ladies night out. This is a source of great joy for Richardson, who pokes friendly fun at the daftness of this situation at every opportunity. There’s several moments where we’re collectively joined in going – ‘did that just happen?’ – as we laugh until we’re on the verge of doing a small unsolicited wee.

As this review concludes, it would be a travesty not to mention the wildly original warm-up from Andrew White (and his exceptional blingtastic earrings). His musical theatre, homosexual-football-hooligan songlets are an unexpected delight. There are many other funny moments, but this is the area where he really shines. More of this, please.

Back to Richardson, now. Brash is the often-filthy, unfailingly funny rhapsody of your not-so-average 30-something, village-dwelling man in a long-term relationship. And yes, like all millennials, he probably spends a bit too much time on the internet. If this is an ‘acquired taste’, sign us up.

Reviewed on Friday 26 September 2025.