Josh Widdicombe has made a name for himself as one of those likeable breed of comedians who get themselves worked up over life’s little annoyances.

His flat, though precisely enunciated, tones rise to a fever pitch as he recounts brushes with bureaucracy, dealings with unhelpful jobsworths or experiences with everyday products which – now he comes to mention it – are a bit weird.

The small town Devon lad is a comedic everyman – a put-upon victim who, like so many of us, struggles to grasp the world. Unlike angry Welshman Rhod Gilbert, though, who pursues a similar shtick, he doesn’t rage against the machine; Josh simply gets more exasperated and higher-pitched. “Is it just me?!” seems to be the message throughout.

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His latest routine ‘Bit Much...’ finds Josh in much the same vein – and one akin to his character in his self-titled sit-com. But that’s fine, because that’s why we are here. We know he is not going to rail against the plight of the world’s oppressed minorities, the inequities of the class system or pick a side over Brexit. What we want – and get – are diatribes on baby monitors and pushchairs (because he now has had a kid), a rant on the frustrations of weddings, and – to start with – the dubious joys of another new experience: wearing glasses.

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It’s all of a similar tone (vocally as well as in terms of substance), but that’s Josh. Indeed the only one not laughing is the star himself – who manages to look deeply peeved throughout, not least at the distance between his microphone stand, centre stage, and a side table on which the stage crew have placed his water. “It’s a death trap!” he yelps as he struggles to reach the bottle while yanking at his mic lead.


It’s all good stuff and the audience chuckle along constantly, occasionally breaking into belly laughs when he strikes a chord of common annoyance. 

An observation which hit home with the audience was that Oxford was a "posh" place, with lovely buildings - but that it is practically impossible to get anywhere because so many roads are closed off. Having just laboured through the queues caused by temporary traffic lights (which are proving anything but temporary) in Botley Road and past the closed off junction of Walton and Beaumont Streets, just outside the theatre, I had to agree. 

Among the odder targets for his ire is the word 'dusk' -prompted buy a sign at his local park informing him that the gates are locked at that emminantly vague time).

He also has cross words to say about advent calenders. The new trend for boozy shot glass calendars are regarded with incredulity at how anyone could possess such an item and keep their job. While parents who buy the traditional non-chocolate filled variety are derided for their cruelty – suggesting they be shopped to Childline.

His examination of the etiquette of WhatsApp groups is particularly funny and strikes a note of approval with the audience.

When is it acceptable to leave? he asks, recommending a sly departure under the cover of other people’s exodus for fear of looking rude. The only thing worse, he suggests, is the dreaded ‘message deleted’ which makes the deleter look like the worse kind of offender.

Also amusing is his experience of fresh vegetable delivery boxes. Once we went to a shop and chose vegetables we wanted, he says, where as now we pay through the nose for things like Swiss chard and fennel, for which we have no use – which is why they are left on doorsteps without fear of theft.

It’s all very middle class problem. But that’s why it’s funny.