After routines about orgies from the perspective of an ‘awkward English twit’, the comedian returns with an unironic and open account of carnal pleasure
It is nearly midnight at a packed theatre in Edinburgh, and Simon Amstell is inviting questions at the end of his Work in Progress show, which continues a mission to cleanse himself of shame and embarrassment by using joyful comic candour. The crowd responds with inquiries about his magic mushroom trips (“I prefer to call them ‘ceremonies’,” he replies primly) and his open relationship with his long-term boyfriend, the economist and philosopher Daniel Chandler. Then an audience member asks if he feels the need to push back against the public’s perception of him. “Why, what’s the perception of me?” he bleats, comically startled. “Sorry!” comes the bashful reply, the interrogator caving instantly, much to Amstell’s amusement.
The next morning, I meet the 43-year-old, east London-born comedian in the theatre bar. He is wearing a chartreuse jumper, and a tiny silver earring in the shape of a footprint; his springy black curls bounce around during his frequent, shrieking fits of laughter. I ask if he knows what his questioner was getting at last night. “I guess I mean different things to different people,” he reflects. “But I can only express whatever is going on for me now. I can’t put on some old skin and do a dance routine for people who liked the other things I did.”
