John Robertson Plays With The Audience – Theatre@41, York

The UK’s Most Manic Comic, John Robertson has become a viral sensation for his wild improv and crowd work videos, capturing audiences with a unique blend of high-energy silliness, filth, and razor-sharp wit. As the creator of the cult hit The Dark Room, Robertson invites fans to enjoy 90 minutes of unrestrained comedy, combining stand-up, improvisation, and raucous crowd interaction – often accompanied by his infamous “dirty electric ukulele.”

Born in Perth, Western Australia, John Robertson began his stand-up career at the youthful age of 17 in 2002. After honing his craft on Australian stages, he relocated to the United Kingdom where he made his Edinburgh Fringe debut in 2010 with A Nifty History of Evil. Since then, he has been a fixture at the Fringe each year – frequently running both traditional stand-up shows and performances of The Dark Room, his live-action video game experience that has garnered cult status among comedy fans.

Robertson’s comedic style is best described as insult comedy; much of his set is improvised and expertly targeted at members of the audience. This interactive approach ensures that no two performances are ever quite alike. In addition to his prowess as a comedian, Robertson is an accomplished puppeteer and ukulele player – skills which are seamlessly woven into his act for added unpredictability.

His reach extends well beyond traditional comedy clubs; he has performed at major venues such as Birmingham’s National Exhibition Centre during Insomnia Gaming Festival, as well as London Film and Comic Con and MCM London Comic Con. Regular appearances at established venues like The Stand Comedy Club, Gilded Balloon, and Komedia in Brighton further cement Robertson’s reputation as one of the UK’s most dynamic comedic talents.

The title of the show, John Robertson Plays With The Audience, doesn’t quite encapsulate the whirlwind experience that awaits the audience. To be fair, no title could truly prepare them for what unfolds during a John Robertson performance. Perhaps a more accurate, albeit unwieldy, description would be: “John Robertson berates the audience, leaps from chair to chair over their heads, steals food, drink and clothing from unsuspecting spectators, and (at one point) chases an audience member through the entire theatre.” Yet even such a verbose summary would fail to capture the full scope of this singular comedian’s act.

Frequently described as “a force of nature” and “a punk-rock Robin Williams,” Robertson is both muscular and long-haired; one can easily imagine him fronting your favourite classic rock band – the sort where the lead singer inevitably crashes and burns in spectacular fashion. His best-known show, The Dark Room, was this year’s most acclaimed production at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. He rides that momentum into his first all-improv tour with characteristic energy.

This latest show has no script or agenda; it is ninety minutes of pure improvisation – genuine improvisation at that, not merely a comedian recycling well-rehearsed routines about audience members’ occupations. In rapid succession, Robertson leads his crowd through a kaleidoscopic stream-of-consciousness involving everything from the venue’s garish carpet (and its presumed effects on those under hallucinogens), to correctly identifying polyamorous and BDSM-practising attendees with uncanny accuracy—a testament to his sharp observational skills.

At one point he commandeers a bag of Revels from an audience member in the front row and launches into an impromptu ‘Yorick’ soliloquy: “Where be your gambols now? Your gibes? Your reve—oh, here they are.” It is moments like these that underscore his unstoppable energy.

Robertson requires no microphone; indeed, upon entering, he promptly moves it aside before proceeding to fill Theatre 41 with nothing but his formidable voice. The only time he deigns to use a microphone, aside from an ongoing joke involving mic-stand ring-toss with an appropriated muff, is when leading raucous singalongs accompanied by a distorted ukulele strummed as if it owes him money.

The songs are not possible to recount here as pretty much every one is too filthy even to name, but they cover politics (Shut Up You Tiny Fool) and another is about beginning a ménage à trois without checking everyone’s food allergies. Many have singalong elements. Many of those elements have more swearing than one may have budgeted for that month.

It is a testament to his visible and infectious love for his audience that Robertson’s interval…isn’t an interval. He bows, we clap, and then he just hangs out onstage, talking to the clearly-besotted fans that flock to him. One has given him a Christmas present (about which he will later inform us “It’s a hard drive, and no further questions”), and one young lady has custom-built him a spiked skateboard with his Dark Room catchphrase on. Goths, pensioners, punks – they gather round him with genuine affection both during the show and afterwards, each receiving a smile or conversation in return.

Robertson’s following is deeply passionate because he is honestly himself—mercurial, hyperactive, right on the edge, yet utterly brilliant. It must be said: this show is not suitable for children or for those who would rather remain uninitiated in explicit group sex anecdotes, hard drug tales, or the extent of Australian swearing after quadruple vodkas. Nevertheless, it remains essential viewing simply because there truly is no-one else quite like him today. While many comedians inhabit their personas temporarily on stage, Robertson embodies his fully at all times.

If one were inclined to wager on rising stars of British comedy circuitry, it would be prudent to secure tickets now- before some Taskmaster-type programme claims him for mainstream fame and his star becomes unreachable. Sit in the front row if you can; you’ll want to say ‘oh yes, I saw him when…’

Reviewed on 17th November 2025