Jack Rooke: Love Letters review

Comedian Jack Rooke already has a reputation. His previous works have investigated the high rate of male suicide and have contained frank discussions on dealing with grief. This time, hosted in a stylish gazebo with a classy backdrop of cascading fairy lights and, naturally, an accompanying harpist, Rooke expands his repertoire to talk about his most important topic yet: cock.

Rooke guides us through the full gay life cycle: regretful memories during the depths of teenage repression, stories of naivity as a freshly freed gayby and fully matured diva-ship competing with the bride on her wedding day. Bouncing from tale to tale, Rooke ends up ruining Lush for life, recounting a golliwog nightmare and embarrassing audience members left to right. Meanwhile, the soothing sound of full-time harpist part-time beatboxer Alexander Thomas supplements the stories by playing classic tunes from Ariana Grande to Doctor Who. 

The show primarily revolves around Rooke’s relationship with his two brothers, and how small acts from those you want to be accepted by are the ones with the greatest impact. Rooke makes a short quip that he has only prepared one letter for an entire show called Love Letters. However, it quickly becomes clear that these personal anecdotes, hilariously full of too-much-information, are his love letters to those he cherishes most. 

Crude and cringey, yet charming and sincere, Jack Rooke highlights the less celebrated forms of love.

 

Jack Rooke: Love Letters is on at the Piccolo Tent, Assembly George Square Gardens

At 19:30 until 24th August

Book tickets here

 

Image: Lewis Simpson

 

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