David Mills: Don't Get Any Ideas

The prism through which David Mills views life has contorted his worldview into a darkly funny outlook, bristling with sharp-tongued satire, and we're all the richer for it.

Tackling any taboo he deems worth mentioning, he offers a subtly caustic take on everything from ISIS to gay cruises. There's an astringent undercurrent but it's always just that: a reticent tone that he never allows to spill over into crabbiness. He cuts a lithe, almost serpentine figure, delivering his material with darting glances and camp flicks of the microphone. A comedic anglerfish, he lures his audience in with deceptive warmth before pouncing with incisive wit.

The musical interludes (which serve as the unfortunate justification for the distracting presence of a guitarist on stage throughout) are slightly misjudged, attempting to offer the same pithiness as the standup but being restricted by the need for synchronicity with the instruments. They don't fail as self-contained segments, but they do stem the flow of biting remarks uttered at normal intonation.

Mills is adept at exerting restraint with his comments, particularly those directed at the audience; he taunts them without forming a disconnect between himself and the people whose favour he seeks. Perhaps he doesn't even want their approval, instead choosing to offer his mindset and make it the audience's prerogative to accept it. He demonstrates a composed balance between fearless expression of thought and underlying respect for the people paying to listen to it.