The Old Man and the Pool at Wyndham’s Theatre – review

Comedian and podcaster Mike Birbiglia may not be a household name in the UK, but this West End run of his latest Broadway solo show should give his profile a well-deserved boost.

With his everyman demeanour and drowsy delivery, he’s a stark contrast to the high-octane brand of American standup we’re so often exposed to on Netflix. Instead he shows a very British knack for self-deprecation, turning his myriad middle-aged health concerns into a rich seam of material.

He opens with a doctor’s examination where he learns he is breathing with the strength of a man having a heart attack. This leads him to the local YMCA swimming pool in a bid to build up fitness, a place he evocatively describes as having an aroma akin to “when your friend lets you smell under their cast”.

And that’s pretty much it as far as plotting goes, except that in Birbiglia’s seasoned hands – he has a number of autobiographical shows under his belt – his medical woes become a framework around which he layers a huge number of anecdotes, observations and gags.

There is also some fun audience interplay (you’d be well advised not to be late), and a surprise conclusion that puts both a comedic and poignant full stop on proceedings. Granted, as a 40 year-old dad I’m squarely in the centre of his target demographic, but his material has broad appeal, and real relatability.

The show doesn’t shy away from sentimentality, particularly when it comes to Birbiglia’s expressions of love for his wife and daughter, but there’s a darker undercurrent. He largely steers clear of politics, but when he reveals his young daughter’s bedroom in their Brooklyn rental was infused with black mould, it seems to chime with the times.

The Hemingway-inspired title hints at a profundity that comes towards the end, when Birbiglia realises a naked old man at the swimming pool who repulsed him as a child perhaps knew more than he appreciated at the time. Like so much about the evening, it’s an acute observation delivered, almost disguised, in a flurry of laughter. These waters are far from still, but they run deep.