Although he’s been a gigging comedian for many years now, it was during lockdown that Matt Green started to become better known through his satirical comedy videos on social media. Often playing a Conservative MP or a broadcast journalist, his short sketches frequently go viral, leading him to be recognised as “that guy from the internet”.
Before Green goes into his stand-up routine as himself, though, we are treated to the persona of the Rt Hon Geoffrey Geoff-Geoffrey MP and his insight into life in Westminster. A minister so low-level he’s unaware of which department he actually works in, Green’s creation is a lot more palatable than many genuine MPs, even as he boasts about avoiding London’s Ultra Low Emission Zone by travelling from Westminster to Soho by helicopter.
As he questions the audience to find out who voted “the right way”, Green affectionately skewers Tory targets Anyone too far on the left, or from another country, is jotted down on a list he promises to pass to “Suella” (despite her no longer being in post, it is a first name that has instant recognition). Much mileage is made out of Liz Truss’s short premiership, as well as Rishi Sunak’s five pledges and, of course, Brexit.
It’s all perfectly pleasant stuff; a satirical style that prefers to laugh at the absurdities of the disconnect between Westminster and the rest of the country than make any attempt to really puncture it.
In the second half of the evening, Green (now as himself) does muse as to whether his brand of satire – indeed, any satire at all – is productive (“Am I helping? Is this useful?”), or whether it just humanises the bad guys. That’s a poser that has no real answer, and certainly not one that a stand-up comedian can hope to resolve in a single stand-up set.
Instead, Green mixes anecdotes from this personal life, from being recognised (or not) as a result of his internet virality to life as an uncle and his YouTube channel being popular enough to attract sponsorship requests from manufacturers of sex toys.
Green doesn’t completely abandon the politics for the second half of his show, though. Truss is again skewered, as someone who “needs a bit more imposter syndrome”, while the revelation that George W Bush hosts an online masterclass in “authentic leadership” leads him to wonder which British politicians could offer courses with the same level of irony.
Green also talks a little about his own politics, which he baulks at describing as the now overloaded term “centrist”. Instead, his default reaction to anything political is, “It’s more complicated than that”. He’d favour a political party that had that as its slogan (“But would I vote for them? Well…”)
That’s admirable, welcome even, especially in an environment where social media, particularly in a post-Musk world, seems ever more aggressively polarised. It also serves as a solid foundation for an evening of light satire and friendly standup.
But there is the feeling that the same affability might be holding Green back from landing some weightier blows with his satire. Is he helping? Is this useful? Well, it’s more complicated than that.
Reviewed on 7 March 2024 and then tours until 16 March
