Review: Jack Whitehall with Hilary and Michael: How to Survive Family Holidays

Jack Whitehall sits quietly on a chair facing his parents on the stage, anxiously tapping his foot as they recall childhood memories of him falling asleep in his nanny’s bra or running around a pool naked. The 33-year-old does not seem too impressed with his father Michael’s confident use of the word “tits” as he remembered finding his son with his head in one massive bra cup and his bum in another. The audience at Hammersmith Apollo laughs painfully at the comedian’s embarrassment, which seems to be a common theme at “Jack Whitehall with Hilary and Michael: How to Survive Family Holidays”.

Whitehall opens the show with a short set about cyber security and delivers jokes with ease before unleashing his parents onto the stage. He delivers a line about manically clicking squares that contain traffic lights, reenacting the complete frustration and questioning, “AM I A ROBOT?”.

The stage set-up is a nod to the exaggerated family dynamic seen in the Netflix series, “Jack Whitehall: Travels with My Father”. Two ordinary grey chairs, one decorated with a cushion, and a grand black leather chair that looked rather menacing in comparison, are positioned centre stage resembling those from Goldilocks and the three bears. The set-up is rather fitting for the child-like role that Jack takes on as he listens to his parents’ stories.

Whitehall’s solo set is followed by a lively entrance from his mother Hilary, who leaps onto the stage with a glass of red wine in each hand and a beaming smile on her face. As she finds her seat, a cloud of smoke sweeps the right side of the stage, a leg appearing slowly to a dramatic synth beat that sounded like something from a horror movie. Another leg steps forward from the smoke, and to the cue of Whitehall announcing the “Lord of Darkness”, a stern-faced Michael Whitehall emerges in a three-piece navy suit that is a sharp contrast to his son's loose t-shirt and jeans.

Now together, the family proceeds to introduce their new book, ‘How to Survive Family Holidays’, with numerous funny anecdotes, photos of Michael in swimming trunks and home videos of their wacky dancing on the screen behind them. Whitehall asks his parents a series of questions as the host, which usually ends in digs and jokes at his expense. Needless to say, the audience was cringing from second-hand-embarrassment as the cutting jokes, and videos to accompany them, carried on throughout the night.

Some hilarity is lost in comparison to the seemingly off-the-cuff comedy seen onscreen. In part, this is due to the facial expressions and death stares being lost in the vast space between the audience and the stage. But, more than that, it is the blatantly scripted jokes and rigid structure that cannot be ignored without the help of a director controlling the conversation or the changing of locations and activities to keep us interested.

“Jack’s favourite thing used to be rummaging around in my fanny pack," says Hilary, following a debate with her son about whether it should be called a “bum bag”. Whitehall then quickly begins to recite a story about his mother using a “bum bag” to sneak a whole breakfast buffet up to her hotel room. The description of a breakfast sausage wrapped in a sanitary towel wrapper could not be any clearer and was one of many that made his cringe-worthy anecdotes all the more memorable.

The embarrassing mum trope is not new in any way, but there is something particularly cringey about hearing 60-year-old Hilary’s crude jokes on stage. In contrast with the quick-fire banter between the men, her jokes often fail to land and seem forced.

Apart from the occasional risqué joke, the night’s humour is easily digestible. And for the most part, it did not involve any politics. This truce lasts until Whitehall applauds his father for getting through the show without sharing his controversial political opinions. Before Whitehall can finish his sentence, his father stands up, pulling out a piece of paper from which he proceeds to passionately read all the things that are wrong with Boris Johnson. “He can’t keep promises” and “he has a ridiculous hair-do," he continues, with obscene language that prompts his son to shout “Sit!”. Whitehall takes the list from his father’s hands and hands him a passage from the family's book to read and close the show.

The endless vividly told anecdotes, embarrassing photographs and snidey banter never stop being uncomfortably funny and earn steady laughs throughout. Whitehall’s schtick with his parents does start to wear thin and does not go beyond the mockery that we have already seen on screen. Although it was underwhelming, it was amusing enough to draw interest to more ludicrous stories in the family’s book, which, after all, was the purpose of the show.